Origins
by CarelessMisbehaviour
Summary: Fate placed Ivy at the right place and suddenly she has pledged herself to a suicide mission to destroy a ring with a fellowship more colourful beyond anyone's imagination. As if that wasn't a handful enough fate sends a charming/slightly antagonistic marchwarden in her general direction, who just happens to be an elf. This year of Ivy's life is, mildly put, chaotic.
1. Into the Fire

1\. Into the Fire

* * *

The Prancing Pony – a lively and seemingly innocent village pub, with a few sombre guests being the exception. One of them happened to be a hooded woman who had arrived before evening fell.

Weeks of travel had left her dirty and unwelcoming, but a bath an hour ago had returned some of her appeal. She was seated away from the crowds, preferring the cover of shadow while a pair of hawk-like blue eyes scanned the room.

There was just one other in this room that she was truly wary of. A tall, haggard looking traveller, calmly smoking a pipe in the other end of the pub while occasionally taking a sip from his tankard of ale.

Or perhaps the ale was just for show? One couldn't afford to get drunk in this setting. He had arrived scant moments ago, but the man's presence was enough to catch her attention. She had picked this place as the safest place to stay for the night, considering what was out there.

 _'The Nazgul.'_ She thought with a shudder.

Ivy had only heard of them, but never faced one. Her brethren from the east had sent word to all four corners that something was amiss and stirring in the east. The faceless, undead black riders had been unleashed by the scum of Mordor. This wasn't a question of stopping them, but to find out their purpose.

She had an inkling, a gut wrenching nervousness in the pit of her stomach as if standing on the edge of a cliff. The world was changing, something dark was about to take place and it was their duty to offer aid wherever possible.

For years they had stood watch, correcting the wrongdoings of men and fighting corruption. Nazgul, reports of the grey wizard appearing in the White City, the number of orc attacks constantly increasing – those were just a few of the messages that had been passed between the fractions.

Now, now was the time to spring into action and offer real aid. Middle-Earth needs it so desperately, especially with the darkness that was looming over the near future.

Ivy's focus on this stranger was briefly broken when the door opened once more and a group of hobbits entered. She sat forward in her chair to get a better look; long finger ripping pieces from the loaf of bread she had bought earlier to make this shift of her position appear more natural.

Well, she could only presume that those were hobbits. This was the first time her eyes set sight upon one for Ivy had never scouted this close to the Shire. There was never any need for the hobbits were a quiet and peaceful folk, and their little order of guardians had nothing to investigate there. Whatever squabbles the shire folk faced, they managed to clear up on their own.

It took some effort to listen in over the shouting and drunken banter of the village folk, but Ivy's ears caught a dark haired one introducing himself as "Underhill". They asked for food and board and paid for it upfront, nothing of interest besides their presence this far from the Shire.

Ivy relaxed back into the wooden chair, resuming her ponderings. Did hobbits even travel? She had never heard of travelling hobbits before. Except for…wasn't there one who travelled with the now-dead king of Erebor, back in the day? No matter, she brushed away the distracting thoughts and resumed her observatory position.

With monotonous actions she lifted the pieces of bread and fruit from the plate to her lips and chewed. Despite the apparent enthusiasm, she was grateful for the food. Weeks on the road with no company but her own? This little break was a welcome distraction. She had missed having a roof over her head, the jolly crackling of firewood in the hearth and the chatter around her was lulling.

These people here had no idea what was happening all around them.

Ivy sighed and washed down the bread with a swig of ale. She had to admit that it was much tastier than she had originally suspected.

 _'Please,'_ the woman begged in her mind, _'let this be a quiet night so I can gather my strength and carry on the hunt tomorrow.'_

The corner of her mouth quirked when she saw one of the four hobbits jollily chatter away at the bar, explaining the intricate and complicated family tree that he had been bestowed.

* * *

Aragorn had followed the Grey Wizard's orders to the dot. He had found the hobbits in question and followed them to Bree; it gladdened his heart to see that the innocent band arrived safely. It was truly a miracle…considering that they had no weapons or training to speak of and the hooded riders at their tails.

The thought almost coaxed a smile from him. Braver men had faltered in their courage while facing lesser beings, yet these small innocent hobbits were full of surprises.

They weren't exactly trying to conceal their presence, choosing to stay downstairs for supper and merrily slurping their pints. What did irk him was the slim figure in the darkest corner of the room.

Hooded and armed – could this be one of Mordor's spies? It wasn't out of the question that they might hire someone to track the hobbits…

 _'_ _Or him!'_ thought Aragorn as a jabbing afterthought.

She had been watching him from the moment he entered, barely breaking the icy gaze as her sight remained fixed and unbroken, until the four hobbits entered the picture.

The ranger tensed when he heard the name "Frodo Baggins" uttered at the barstool. The pipe that he had been mindlessly smoking was lowered from his lips as the hobbit in question scrambled up to his comrade, spilling the ginger's drink in the process and in their little skirmish caused Frodo to slip and fall on his back.

All eyes turned to the little man and Aragorn's eyes caught sight of a flash of gold and an icy panic took hold of his stomach as he realised what the hobbit was carrying. He stood up just in time to see the little fellow reach out his hand in an attempt to catch the ring, only to have it land on his finger and making the hobbit disappear causing shouts of surprise to erupt from the village folk.

Aragorn had heard that the ring could make one invisible, but to see it first-hand? It was shocking even to him.

The rest of the hobbit's comrades looked utterly baffled, exchanging looks of confusion and shock between them, thank the Valar. It seems that this Frodo had enough wits about to keep knowledge about the ring secret, even from his comrades who were now most likely sobered up from the shock of the events.

Strider made his way to where Frodo Baggins supposedly was, though his eyes couldn't even catch the shadow of this hobbit. Like a wolf his eyes instinctively reacted to any movement and when the black haired hobbit reappeared, he was right behind him. The commotion quieted down and the rest resumed their usual evening, though there were hush discussions of what they had just witnessed.

Frodo shook his head, panting, clearly startled from the experience. Who knows what horrors the hobbit might've witnessed while wearing this ring? But by donning it, even by accident, Aragorn knew that the Nazgul must be heading this way.

The ring, it calls to them, beckons them closer and wearing it was as good as screaming out their location. He grabbed Frodo by the shoulder, turning him sharply around.

"You draw far too much attention to yourself, mister Underhill." He hissed pointedly at the Hobbit, emphasising the alias that the Hobbit had picked.

He didn't give the poor bloke any time to answer before hurling him away, pushing him up the stairs to his own room. Time was of essence here, there wasn't a moment to spare if they wanted to escape the wraiths now after drawing them here, almost inviting them.

The hobbit was like a child in his eyes; to think that he carried such a heavy burden was unsettling. There was the woman to think about as well. If she's a spy of Mordor then no doubt she would try to follow them.

Aragorn unlocked the door and pushed the hobbit inside, closing the door hastily behind him. Frodo scrambled up hastily, standing as tall as he could with his eyes wide.

"What do you want?"

"A little more caution from you; that is no trinket you're carrying." Stated Aragon.

"I carry nothing!" retorted the hobbit hastily, a little too quickly to make it believable.

"Indeed," He muttered almost sarcastically, stalking around the room like a cat "I can avoid being seen if I wish," said Aragorn while putting out the several candles in the room, his tone lightening, "but to disappear entirely? That is a rare gift."

Finally he turned around and removed the hood from his head to properly look Frodo in the eye. The hobbit examined him with plenty of suspicion still evident in his features.

"Who are you?" He asked, though his tone was a lot less defensive.

"Are you frightened?" asked Aragorn, almost jestingly if it weren't for the direness of the situation.

There was a pause before the hobbit answered affirmative, unleashing another tongue lashing from Aragorn.

"Not nearly frightened enough. I know what hunts you." He stated, determined to keep the ring away from the wraiths.

In order to do that some thin bond of trust has to be forged between them.

Some sound drew away his attention and Aragorn turned around, drawing his sword when the door was slammed open by the hobbits Aragorn recognised as Frodo's travel companions. The one in the front was baring nothing but his fists and brave heart while the other two looked positively frightened at the sight of a bared blade, holding nothing but a chair and a candlestick.

"Let him go, or I'll have you longshanks!" He shouted, unfazed by the sight of a sword.

Aragorn felt a twinge of respect for the loyalty this one displayed and returned his sword to the scabbard. He had no quarrel with them.

"You have a stout heart, little hobbit, but that will not save you."

The ranger turned to Frodo once more, not once breaking eye contact in an attempt to make the little man understand just how serious this was.

"You're no longer waiting for the wizard, Frodo. They're coming."

Another little scratch caught his ears; coming from the stairs and Aragorn pulled the other three hobbits inside.

"Stay behind me!" He whispered to them and drew his blade.

Was the spy of Mordor waiting for this opportunity, hoping to catch him off guard?

The hobbits scrambled into a little heap in the farthest corner of the room while Aragorn stood ready to attack at the first sign of provocation. He heard the lithe footsteps and the creaking of the floorboards as the hooded woman from downstairs came into view of their doorway, holding both of her gloved hands up as a sign of good faith.

"I'm no enemy of yours, put that sword away and I'll explain."

Aragorn made no movement to comply. Female assassins were a valuable asset; they could easily slip into the hearts of men and draw out compassion, not to mention that men of honour hesitated to strike a woman.

The hobbits were wide-eyed and somewhat awed; it was a rare sight to see a travelling woman, not to mention one who was armed. Yet here was one, wearing breeches and carrying a bow.

She pulled back her hood, revealing a thin face with features as sharp as her eyes.

"For Valar's sake, if this Underhill of yours is carrying what I think he is, then he just drew the wraiths here. I've been tracking their whereabouts for weeks, now would you put that sword away so we could at the very least switch bloody rooms before they get here? You can interrogate me all you want when we're in a safer place than this!"

Her voice wasn't panicky, it was irritated and calculated. In a last resort she pulled out an envelope from the inner pocket of her leather coat, holding it out to Aragorn.

"Here, recognise this seal?" She asked, inclining with her head for Aragorn to accept this token.

He was not about to strike down a woman who didn't even have a weapon in her hands. Aragorn returned the blade and accepted the letter, though his stance remained battle-ready. He turned it over and in the light of the fire, examined the shape pressed into the dark blue wax.

Two oak branches surrounding a hooded figure with no discernable features or gender. He had seen this seal only a handful times in his long lifetime. The Nameless, a strange band of warriors and nomad peacemakers that travelled the world, only appearing in moments of need. The organisation had morphed and changed its purpose during the long decades of its existence…but they were friends, not enemies.

When she saw the recognition in his eyes she fetched a chain from under her tunic to show him a silver necklace with the same emblem,

"Letters and jewellery can be stolen, but it's all the proof I have right now."

Aragorn returned the letter to the woman, his shoulders losing some of the tension.

"I apologise, my lady. I figured you to be a spy from Mordor."

This did not completely dissolve the lingering suspicion he harboured, but an assassin sent by Sauron would've attacked by now. One man and a few defenceless hobbits should be of no problem to dispose of, especially with the ring of power at stake.

She shook her head, refusing his apology.

"Good, suspicion is probably what has kept you living this long. The name's Ivy, now could we please move now?"

Only now did the hobbits pipe up from the corner, the one who had stolen a stool from the pub and was now merrily sitting upon it,

"Move where? You can't possibly mean to travel tonight?" He asked, no doubt dreading the pouring rain outside.

It would be muddy and wet and nothing like the soft feathery bed that he was expecting from tonight.

Ivy exchanged a look with Aragorn. They were on foot, the hobbits were unarmed and the group was in a serious disadvantage in the dark. The wraiths knew that they were in the Prancing Pony, even if they left Bree now, there's no guarantee that they'll get anywhere. On foot they wouldn't get far.

It was a silent agreement between the pair. The best bet was to switch inns. The hobbits watched the interaction in silent anticipation, Ivy suddenly turned to Frodo.

"Tell me your room number, and give me the key."

He seemed taken aback, but nevertheless surrendered the key without much protest.

"What are you going to do? Are you intending to face them on your own?"

The woman laughed briefly at the doorway.

"I'm not suicidal. I'll just fluff up some pillows to waste their time. The wraiths can't really tell the difference between a heap of feathers and a real hobbit, can they?"

Aragorn flashed a look to the hobbits.

"Stay here, speak to no one!" He ordered before motioning for Ivy to lead the way.

He didn't trust her enough to leave her alone just yet, and it will be faster if they do it together.

The pair rushed down the hallway to the hobbits' room. Ivy threw open the door and they got to work. An inviting warm fire was lit and fresh ale and bread left out for the hobbits to nibble on.

The woman broke off about half a loaf, leaving some crumbs on the table and pouring some of the ale out of the window to make it seem more believable. She wrapped the half loaf in her hand into a piece of cloth she found and stocked it into her bag for tomorrow's travel.

With Aragorn's help they had four hobbit-esque piles stocked under the blankets. Ivy was painfully conscious of Aragorn constantly checking on her movements while they worked silently. She examined their handiwork, snorting,

"The wraiths, they can't really see can they?"

Aragorn shook his head.

"Not as we do. Now hurry." He ordered and watched around warily while the woman locked the door behind them and they headed back to the hobbits.

* * *

It was uncomfortable for him to leave them alone even for the scant minutes that they were gone, and it gladdened his heart to see them unharmed. Their arrival startled the group. Frodo was the only one standing by the fire, the other three were lazily sprawled on the floor, chattering quietly, but the merriness in their voice sounded strained.

"What now?" Asked the stocky hobbit.

Ivy glanced at the window and then back at the hobbits.

"Can you climb, or shall I carry you down on my back?"

The notion seemed to embarrass the hobbit who had the faintest sign of a blush on his cheeks,

"I wouldn't burden a lady like that."

One of the ginger ones slapped him playfully on the back.

"What dear Sam here is trying to say, is that we hobbits are quite proficient at climbing!"

Ivy nodded at that, offering a small smile.

"Good, then out you go."

Aragorn stepped in.

"Perhaps I should go first, in case one of them falls."

Ivy agreed with the plan, and turned her face to the closed door, listening to any sound.

"You, Frodo is your name I think. You go right after him. The wraiths are hunting you, it's imperative that we get you out and away. We'll have some proper introductions once we're someplace safer than this."

She caught just a glimpse of Aragorn's ring before the man disappeared into the darkness and the still-pouring rain. The weather was foul and made the climb treacherous, both of the humans were quite worried for the four hobbits who looked soft and not at all sturdy.

"Go!" She whispered to Frodo who proved to be much more nimble than she gave him credit for.

Next was the stocky hobbit, followed by the two carefree hobbits and lastly by Ivy herself. She closed the window as best as she could behind her before climbing down the pub wall, cursing the weather under her breath. Never before had she been this grateful for the leather cloak that she was wearing.

Aragorn watched her descent for a scant second before he was glancing around warily. No sign of the wraiths yet, only sounds to be heard were completely ordinary like drunken chatter and the sounds of farm animals.

There was another inn in the village, much cheaper and with less comforts than the Prancing Pony, but no doubt the group was much happier to escape with their lives with the price of some feather pillows and a warm hearth. Actually it was right across the street, much to Aragorn's discomfort.

"Be ready." He whispered to Ivy who nodded sharply and pulled up her hood again to conceal herself from any curious eyes and this strange haggard group quickly made their way across the small street.

Luckily, the Shire was close enough so the appearance of four hobbits wasn't such a rarity in this town and wasn't a cause of worry.

Their switch of inns was, thank Valar, uneventful. Ivy bit back a groan when she heard one of the hobbits mutter something about the quality of the ale being better at the Pony, but she blamed fear for this lack of patience. Any other day she might've found this situation completely comical, but right now she was frightened.

Aragorn paid for one room and supper, and they headed upstairs. Only when the door was closed behind them did the hobbits exhale, one of them collapsing into the room's only double bed. Just as he had in the Prancing Pony, Aragorn quickly put out any candles before sitting by the window, eyes peering outside and his sword securely in his hand.

"We shall stay the night and move at the first light tomorrow, there's no time to waste." He declared solemnly.

It seemed like the hobbits didn't dare to argue, and it was smart of them not to. The group fell into an awkward silence until supper was brought to them, consisting of bread, cheese, some meat and a bit of butter.

The prospect of food seemed to lighten the hobbits' mood a little bit as they scampered to the table to make some simple sandwiches. Ivy removed her heavy leather coat once more and laid it near the fire with her pack and bow, leaving her blade hanging on her hip.

Only for a moment did Aragorn break his gaze to look at the woman properly. She had to be at least over twenty of age with long blonde hair, pulled back into a braid that fell down her back. Most of her clothing was dark and sturdy and her leather boots had clearly seen a lot of travel. His eyes quickly counted the weapons on her person and he realised that she most likely knew how to fend for herself.

"You'll take first watch, I take it?" asked Ivy, answered only by a curt nod by Aragorn who hastily averted his eyes, there was no need for his eyes to roam any further and cause discomfort.

He listened as she joined the hobbits by the table, sitting next to Frodo.

"I'll join you, if you don't mind." She said pleasantly, using this moment to cut herself a slice of bread and spreading a generous serving of butter on it.

"Not at all, my lady," said one of the redheads, "I'm Meriadoc Brandybuck, or Merry for short, and this here," he inclined to his close friend whose mouth was at the moment stuffed with delicious food, "is Peregrin Took, who goes by the name Pippin."

Ivy cracked a smile at the sight.

"My pleasure. You're Frodo Baggins I gather, but who is the last travel companion of yours?" She asked, switching her attention from Frodo to the last hobbit.

"Samwise Gamgee, his gardener." He finished and quickly occupied his hands with another slice of bread, still seemingly a little embarrassed.

"I think that your tale might be something quite fantastic, but on another night perhaps." She noted, wondering how this curious band of hobbits came upon this ring of power.

It unsettled her, knowing that it was so close to her. Right in this very room…Right next to her in fact…Her thoughts were broken by Pippin who piped up, now that he had managed to swallow the mouthful.

"How did you end up here, my lady?"

Ivy smiled thoughtfully.

"Scouting, I heard about the wraiths being deployed so I've been trying to track them, figure out what are they looking for…Well I got the answer to that."

"A woman such as you travelling alone?" asked Frodo, actually sounding concerned.

She almost laughed, but supressed the urge.

"My dear, I'm armed to the tooth; being attacked is not an issue. Don't worry about that."

Aragorn broke his gaze for a moment.

"What about tomorrow? You got your answer, shouldn't you report back?"

Ivy inclined her head.

"So ready to rid of me? You think I can just leave four defenceless hobbits under the protection of one ranger? No, I'll see them to safety, wherever you might lead us."

There was neither ill will in her eyes nor deception in her voice, and if the stories about the Nameless Ones' skills were indeed true, then he had earned a mighty ally. Their eyes remained locked for a few tense seconds before Merry broke their focus.

"Well, they do say the more the merrier."

Ivy broke into a smile at the little joke before rolling her eyes.

"Eat up and then off to bed, little hobbits. You'll need your strength tomorrow."

She finished the sandwich before heading over to Aragorn, leaving the hobbits to their cheerful chattering.

"Who are you? Where are you leading them?" She finally asked, voicing just a few of the questions in her head.

Though outwardly calm, she was in a terrible inner turmoil.

Just today she was tracking the wraiths, now she had stumbled upon the One Ring of Power and her stupid pride can't let this matter go until it is sure that someone more…able has the ring.

For what, though? Safekeeping? The ring was known to be treacherous; its history was drenched in blood. The time to act was now. The discovery of the ring would explain everything, that's the only thing that might rouse the forces in East.

Blue eyes met blue as he seemed to be weighing his options, trying to figure out how much trust to place in this woman.

"You may call me 'Strider." He said after a long pause, breaking their eye contact and looking back out of the window, making sure to keep out of sight.

Ivy nodded.

"Not your real name, but alright, and where are you taking them?"

"This is beyond my wisdom, Lord Elrond of Rivendell, I trust no one but him with this knowledge."

The name jostled Ivy's memory; her mentor had been to Rivendell several times for council. She nodded.

"It's a reasonable course of action," agreed the woman "I will aid you, at least until Rivendell. What happens from thereon, I cannot say."

Aragorn nodded in sincere thanks.

"I can ask for no more, my lady, you have my gratitude."

Not many would agree with a course this perilous. There were a hundred and one things that could've gone wrong, yet she still agreed to stay.

"It's my pleasure. I wouldn't be able to walk away from here with a clear conscience, to leave you to your fates."

And Rivendell would be a much better place to send word to the rest. If memory served her correct, a few of their messenger birds were still stationed there. Ivy only needed one; just get word to one of the members and information will spread like wildfire.

The woman hesitated. Should this information be passed around? What if it ended up in the wrong hands? No…She will decide upon the matter later on. Knowledge about the One Ring wasn't something to be flashed around carelessly, even in their order. It would be enough to let them know that she has discovered the root of the problem and is dealing with it.

A comfortable silence settled between them and Ivy nodded, as if to end their interaction,

"Wake me in a few hours, I'll take the second watch. You're no use to us exhausted." She jabbed, taking note of his unshaven and haggard look.

Judging by appearance, this Strider has been on the road for weeks, just as she.

Aragorn nodded.

"As you wish."

Ivy headed to her belongings and threw herself down on her leather coat, using her arm as a pillow while the other, out of habit, gripped the hilt of her sword.

"My lady," exclaimed Sam, who was the first to notice her take the floor "please, take the bed."

She popped open one eye with a look that left little room for argument.

"And leave you four sleeping on the floor? Non-negotiable, good night little hobbits."

And with that she turned her back to them. Though she was certain that sleep would elude her tonight, Ivy was currently too high strung to relax, too many thoughts going through her head. Not to mention the knowledge of the ring wraiths that were on their way to Bree, if they hadn't already arrived.

* * *

The woman was mistaken though, and after much pondering she had managed to fall into some sort of light slumber. It wasn't until she heard the angry, blood-chilling screams of the nazgul that she shot up, drawing her sword in an instinctive reflex. Her eyes scanned the room quickly, noticing the three freshly awoken hobbits and Frodo, who apparently hadn't gone to bed at all.

Aragorn towered by the window like a solemn guardian, looking down upon the nazgul with a strangely sad look in her eyes as they exited the Prancing Pony and got back on their demonic steeds.

"What are they?" asked Frodo.

He knew that both of those strange humans offering them protection seemed to know precisely what they were dealing with yet the hobbit hadn't even heard of those black hooded figures. They felt familiar to him, but that might've been the ring trying to get to them.

His question caused Aragorn to draw his eyes away from the scene below.

"They were once men." He said quietly, his voice just above a whisper as the wraiths howled outside the window.

Their otherworldly screams were enough to make most men drop their weapons and flee.

Ivy sighed sadly.

"They were great kings of men who were offered nine rings of power by Sauron, which they took of course. Mankind is prone to greed…" Her voice trailed away in shame.

No one was safe from this weakness. How much evil could've been prevented if only mankind had proven to be stronger?

Aragorn nodded in agreement.

"He deceived them. One by one the rings corrupted them, prompting their fall into darkness. Now they are slaves to his will."

The hobbits were wide-eyed, pressing their backs against the bedframe while Ivy stalked to the window, to take a peek.

"Nazgul, ring wraiths, call them what you will, but they're neither living nor dead."

She felt a strange apprehensiveness at the sight of the nazgul. It has been a long time since she felt fear again.

"At all times they feel the presence of the ring, drawn to the power of the one," He looked Frodo dead in the eye "they will never stop hunting you."

Aragorn's words sent chills down Frodo's back and suddenly the ring felt a lot heavier, and the hobbit became painfully aware of its presence once more.

It was time to return to its master.

* * *

 **And that's a wrap!**

 **So greetings to you all. This isn't my very first fanfiction ever, but this is the first time I'm attempting to write something in Tolkien's universe so feel free to point out any lore-related mistakes I might make during the course of this story. It's going to be fun to be creating some lore and culture of my own, especially with the Nameless Ones and how the guild came to be etc.**

 **Sending lots of love to my beta reader - Oakenshield's Star. No doubt I'd be lost without you. Make sure to check out their stories as well, as they've been much more prolific in their writing career.**

 **Hopefully you enjoyed this chapter, until next time!**

 **cm**


	2. Run, Little Boy

2\. Run, Little Boy

* * *

As promised, Ivy had taken the second watch. After much coaxing from her, Frodo allowed himself to doze off, but she could tell that his sleep was restless and light. The hobbits had somewhat calmed down when Aragorn had made the claim to be a friend of Gandalf's. A lie that not many would dare utter, so Ivy was more inclined to believe him.

The nazgul were long gone and the Prancing Pony was eerily silent. A part of the woman wished to confirm that the innkeeper was still alive, that anyone was still alive. Did those hooded monsters slaughter everyone in their rampage? She lowered her eyes, praying to the Valar that the little hobbits hadn't brought death and ruin to the innocents, even by accident.

That's all last night had been really, an accident. A large, ironic twist of faith that gathered the right people in the right place, at the right time – that's what brought them together. She didn't want to know what could've happened to Middle-Earth, to those jolly little hobbits had they not been at the Prancing Pony with Strider.

They'd be dead, she concluded, and the One Ring would be heading back to its master at this very moment.

With a dagger still firmly in her fist, she finally decided that it was solitary and safe enough to open the letter she had received just before arriving to Bree.

Ivy trotted silently across the room to her leather coat and fetched the letter from the pocket, using this chance to stir the embers a little to keep the fire going. She cast a glance at Strider who seemed to be asleep, and not faking it, a strange display of trust that she appreciated.

There was still a little time before she'd have to break their slumber. The woman smirked a little at the sight of him gripping the hilt of his sword. Never wake a warrior by touch or you just might lose a limb, or your life.

She headed back to the chair by the window, casting another wary look outside to make sure that it truly was safe before breaking the seal. This was news from one of her southern brethren.

Her heart leapt in joy to hear that her dear friend was alive, but with each line the creases between her brows deepened. One piece of news more unsettling than the other – it felt like she was in possession of all pieces of truth, but was lacking the key particle to put it all together.

Orcs were spotted in the south, heading to Isengard, but not under banners of war and a sighting of one of the great eagles heading to Orthanc and back again. The white wizard, an ally lived there, that much she knew.

Were the orcs sent there to parlay with him or were they under that guise just to assassinate the old man? Ivy bit back a smirk. Those foolish orcs, provoking the ire of a warlock is quite possibly one of the most foolish things to do.

The woman read the letter once more, memorising every word before heading to the fire and destroying the evidence. She scrutinised every piece until it was all turned to ashes.

Sending letters was too risky, too many chances of recon information falling to the wrong hands, but she was in no position to make any changes. Secrecy was their protection from the world. They had no known habitat and the exact number of members was unknown.

The Nameless Ones – they were no one, they appeared when necessary and corrected what was amiss. She was no one, though she used to be someone. A simple peasant girl, homeless and starving in the forest…Ivy supressed the resurfacing memories with a shake of her head.

Now was not the time to ponder about what used to be, and it was indeed a long time ago. She returned the gleaming dagger to its proper place before heading over to the hobbits. She shook them as gently as possible.

"Little hobbits, it's time to wake up. We must move." Her voice smooth as honey as she beckoned them to return from their sweet and warm dreams.

Frodo seemed to be the only one of the four who had no problem waking up. On the contrary, it seemed like he was glad to see the faint light of dawn peeking over the treetops. The rest were still grumbling and rubbing sleep from their eyes, their curly hair looking even more disarrayed than the night before.

"Strider." called Ivy, deciding that it was the safest course to take.

It was all the prompting Aragorn needed to be jostled out of his dreams. He was up at a moment's notice, gathering his things and getting dressed. Ivy observed his graceful, measured movements for a moment before reporting,

"Everything has been quiet. I think they left Bree for now, but I cannot say for how long or how far they went."

Or if they will return. They were safer during the day, but now that the wraiths knew that the ring was near, even daylight won't save them.

Aragorn nodded curtly.

"Stay here, we'll need provisions. We'll depart as soon as I'm back."

He was almost out the door when Ivy called out to him, throwing a small coin purse at the man who caught it easily from the air.

"Split the cost between us. I don't think that ponies come so cheap that a mere ranger can pay for it all."

He hesitated for a few seconds, but something in the hawk-like eyes of this woman forced him to swallow his pride and accept this silver. Ivy may be a woman, but she refused to be coddled and treated as one. Strider closed the door behind him, leaving Ivy alone to deal with the sleepy hobbits.

She turned around and supressed a groan – this will require some much loathed mothering.

"Come on now!"

She clapped her hands loudly, waking up Pippin who had hoped to sneakily fall asleep again.

"You heard the man. Get dressed and dine, or you'll be departing without breakfast!"

The notion of a full stomach seemed to be higher in the hobbits' list of priorities and they were all swiftly out of bed and dressed, pattering around with their impressively hairy feet.

"Do hobbits ever wear shoes?" She asked no one in particular.

Sam was the first to pipe in an answer.

"Never heard of a respectable hobbit to constrict his feet as such."

The rest agreed in a unanimous hum, drawing only a look of confusion from the woman. It was soon washed away as she freshened up near the water basin, splashing cold water on her face to wipe away the last remnants of sleep from her eyes before joining the hobbits for breakfast consisting of nothing but the same cold bread from last night.

Cold bread was better than no bread in a hobbit's book, but Samwise did promise Ivy that the first chance they get he's going to demonstrate exactly what good food is. Judging by the size of his backpack and the frying pan hanging from the side, he was the most proficient cook in the group. They all dreamed of a proper breakfast of crispy bacon, thick juicy sausages and poached eggs to top it all off.

Their conversation was polite, with Ivy inquiring about the Shire. It was met with a long rant from Merry and Pippin who poured her over with Shire intrigues, sharing the recent story of how they had stolen a huge firework from the grey wizard that had transformed into a spark-breathing dragon, drawing a genuine laugh from Ivy.

"Stealing from a wizard? My-my aren't you bold."

Pippin snorted.

"We were just borrowing. It's the Sackville-Bagginses I'm more worried about, especially now that both Frodo and Bilbo are gone."

The woman didn't know just who they were talking about, but it seemed to be a distant relative of Frodo's for he finally joined in the banter.

"Remember when uncle Bilbo came back from his travels to find them auctioning off his possessions?"

It gladdened Ivy to see that there were some smiles still left in this little man. Hobbits were small, frail even in her eyes – they were not bred and readied for war yet now they were escaping from the nine.

For some reason it saddened her, but offered some amusement. The wraiths can't be that frightening if four adorable hobbits have managed to outwit them for so long, can they? But the thought rang hollow in her mind compared to the icy fear she had felt in the pit of her stomach last night when she listened to the otherworldly howling. Ivy forced the negative thoughts out of her mind, but her appetite had all but disappeared.

It wasn't long before Strider returned to them.

"Quick now."

He ushered them out of the inn and out of the village gates, or what was left of them to be precise. The wooden gates had been run down to the ground, no doubt just one of the signs of the ring wraiths' visit to Bree.

Aragorn had bought a pony and enough provisions to last them for two weeks, though Ivy was hoping that they would make it to Rivendell a little faster than that. The faster they cleared the open ground the better.

* * *

Their departure from Bree had been, luckily, uneventful. The group managed to slip out before the first proper light of day and were under the protection of the woods in less than an hour. Ivy welcomed the familiar smell of moss and dirt and the scrambling of small animals or the chirping of birds.

This was life and familiar to her. The forest rarely made her feel uneasy, instead she felt safe between the trees. Aragorn was leading the column, the four hobbits trailing behind him with Sam being in charge of the pony, and finally Ivy was left to guard the rear. She noticed, with much glee, that Sam had quickly formed a friendship with the adorable animal.

The ranger moved ahead of them, slightly crouched like a man who wasn't just used to the wilderness. He was a part of his surroundings. It didn't escape her notice how he angled his feet while walking, careful not to leave any trails behind, how he sniffed the air for clues like a dog in search of prey.

"Where are you taking us?" called out Frodo, the voice of reason.

It surprised the Nameless that it had taken the hobbits this long to question their destination, blindly following two strangers into the forest. Aragorn's stern, yet quiet response proved utterly cryptic,

"Into the wild."

The wide eyed hobbits merely scuffled after him, trying to keep up with the man's pace, casting looks over their shoulders every now and then, as if to make sure that the woman was still there. He towered over Ivy; she didn't even want to imagine how long his strides must be compared to the hobbits'.

Merry hurried close to Frodo and the woman sharpened her ears to hear what they were conspiring.

"How can we know this Strider is a friend of Gandalf's?"

"I think a servant of the enemy would look fairer, but feel fouler." He reasoned with the utmost seriousness.

"He's foul enough." Muttered the red haired hobbit, their discussion causing Ivy to chortle in the back of the column.

Their standards for good and evil were marvellous. Aragorn barely reacted; the only sign that he even took notice of this conversation was a slight tilt of his head, caught only by Ivy's icy eyes.

"We have no choice but to trust him." Was Frodo's final decision and he quickened his pace, determined to reach whatever destination this stranger had in mind.

This only drew an exasperated sigh from Merry, who saw no other choice but to follow.

"But where is he leading us?" asked Sam, still unsettled that they hadn't received a straight answer.

It would ease his heart and worries if he knew where Frodo was headed. After all, Samwise wished to honour his promise to Gandalf to keep Frodo safe – partially out of loyalty, the other half was his fear of the wizard's possible wrath.

"Rivendell, Master Gamgee," answered Aragorn, startling the hobbits who just now realised that Strider most likely caught the entirety of their exchange "to the House of Elrond."

The excitement of this revelation was imminent among the hobbits, but most excited of all was Sam.

"Rivendell? We're going to see the elves!" He whispered to his companions.

Ivy had to admit that she was excited as well, but, unlike the hobbits, it wasn't because of the elves. She was looking forward to a place where one could truly feel safe. If they could just cross the borders to lord Elrond's domain…They just need to reach the borders.

Truth be told she found elves unsettling. They practically glided through life, perfect at everything they do, unaffected by anything and everything except for beauty. Something about that felt unnatural, or perhaps it was jealousy that humans will always be inferior. After all, an elf might have a thousand years of practice in swordplay while Ivy wasn't sure if hers would even take up half of her lifespan.

* * *

They were making generous progress, and Ivy was pleased that the first several hours of their trip was tranquil, the most tragic event being when Pippin stumbled upon a tree root and nearly fell face-first to the forest floor, had it not been for Frodo's quick reflexes.

It baffled Ivy when she noticed the hobbits halting the pony, ready to make camp before midday. She walked past them, a look of confusion imminent in her eyes. Aragorn heard the ruckus and turned around, his eyebrow raised.

"Gentlemen," all four hobbits looked at him in unison "we do not stop 'till nightfall." He declared, the man's tone leaving no room for argument.

Pippin was the first to argue, holding a pan in his right hand.

"What about breakfast?" He asked, completely baffled by this revelation.

Ivy turned around, hands behind her back.

"You already had one?"

It was bewildering how little they seemed to understand the gravity of this situation. They were unarmed, on open terrain with no protection to speak of.

The little hobbit had to bite back a snort.

"We've had one, yes, what about second breakfast?" He asked with a smug smile.

Ivy rolled her eyes, smiling, scouting forward. Aragorn can deal with this one. He seemed just as taken aback as the foreign woman and followed her through the bushes.

His eyes caught sight of her looking through her bag and with a wide smirk she pulled out a few apples from her bag, throwing two of them to Aragorn.

"This should be enough, ay?" She asked the man gleefully before throwing to apples over her head, hoping that they reached the hobbits around the bush.

This was the first time she noticed something akin to a smile cross the ranger's face before he followed suit. They slowed their pace a little to allow the hobbits a chance to catch up while they packed their utensils.

* * *

The rest of the journey was not all that pleasant. The little maze of bushes ran out soon and they came face to face with a wet, smelly disgusting bog. Ivy already smelt the rot and heard the loud buzzing of flies, biting back complaints about the road ahead. The poor hobbits struggled through the deep and treacherous marshes, slapping away the flies helplessly, and this carried on well into the night.

It wasn't until midday that they finally were out of the wetlands and scouting the plains. The lack of cover was unsettling to all travellers, but it was a necessary evil. Aragorn seemed to be deliberately leading them to a broken heirloom, an ancient fortress, now long fallen into ruin and calling it a ruin was putting it mildly, there was scantly anything left of the building.

"Well, that thing's about to topple over." quipped Pippin, slightly grimacing at the structure.

"This was the great watchtower of Amon Sûl…"

Aragorn looked up to the now broken fortress, almost longingly, as if it could bring back the lost days. He broke his gaze and train of thought and cast a look over his shoulder.

"We shall rest here tonight."

The company followed in silence, the hobbits were ready to drop dead from all this walking. The Shire folk wasn't used to days and days of travel. By the time they reached the top of what was left of the old watchtower, the halflings were completely drained and all fell down to the ground, almost in sync, glad to finally get some rest and well-earned supper.

Aragorn looked around, his heart was unsettled. Ivy cast just one look above before instinctively drawing her hood, feeling a sudden chill despite the setting sun spreading some warmth to their loins.

"Those clouds aren't natural. They're too dark." She whispered to Strider, careful not to alert the hobbits.

No use to have them worrying.

"I shall go and have a look around, scout ahead to make sure they haven't cut us off." She offered, determined not be cornered up there like an animal.

The ranger eyed her, and Ivy accepted the calm challenge head on.

"You still don't trust me? Or is it the brotherhood that you don't trust?"

It wasn't uncommon for men to despise the Nameless Ones. They answered to no one but their own and in their ranks man and woman were equal. Back when the order, or brotherhood, was formed they functioned as assassins, taking out some of Sauron's key generals. In times of peace they remained as swords to hire before retreating to the position of watchers.

Now their numbers had somewhat decreased and their function was hazy. Each member acted on their own sense of duty, correcting wrongs where possible, attempting to better the world and the flow of things. Ivy had never met all of them, but she had heard that there even was a dwarven Nameless, who made sure that trade and economy were balanced, a task which required significantly more than a sharp blade.

Strider offered a consoling smile.

"It is not your association that worries me, but your safety, lady Ivy."

She felt a grin spread across her face, one that could vex a more impatient man.

"If that is all then I will take my temporary leave. If I don't return before the morn then you know that you must find another way."

The Nameless didn't need coddling, even though the sentiment was appreciated by her. At least it wasn't outright distrust that stayed Aragorn, but merely his gentleness. She had been trained like any other, the only exception being that her swordplay was focused on speed rather than physical strength.

Aragorn watched as this stranger, whose tongue was as sharp as her features, stalked away soundlessly.

"Leave some supper for me as well!"

She warned the hobbits before disappearing down the stairs. Something in Strider's heart told him that the woman will be back. She was unlike most ladies that he had met – didn't shy away from gutting an animal, hadn't uttered one complaint about their travel conditions and proved to possess keen eyes and sharp wits, although he had yet to see her in action.

"Where did Ivy go?" asked Frodo, his eyes questioning "Has she abandoned us?"

"To make sure the way ahead is clear. I need to have a look around, stay here." He ordered the hobbits.

A quick run around the old watchtower rendered him with 4 small blades, or perhaps oversized daggers, but they were perfect in size for a hobbit. He dropped all four of them to the doe eyed halflings who were gazing the faded blades with curiosity.

"Stay here!" he ordered them.

This wouldn't replace the presence of two warriors, but it was a better option than leaving them defenceless. If they were quiet and lucky, no harm would come to them at all.

Aragorn looked upon them once more before following Ivy down the stairs. By now the woman must've been far away from the tower. He silently prayed for her swift return, and his.

* * *

It wasn't until several hours later that Ivy turned back. The surrounding plains of the Weathertop were covered by a thick mist, much to her pleasure. It made it much easier to slip back to…

Her heart dropped when she saw the beckoning gleam of a fire on top of the tower and sudden panic overtook her. The Nameless pulled up her hood, quietly cursing every god that she knew and broke into a run when she heard the familiar screams.

The sound of it nearly made her drop down on the grass as the woman covered her ears at the inhuman noise. Each howl made her courage falter just a little, but the weight of Frodo's burden kept her going.

 _'This can't be my contribution to the world. I am the Nameless One, I am no one, I'm supposed to better this cursed world, not let it fall to bloody ruin under my watch!'_ She wanted to scream those words into the night.

 _'How many? Where's Strider? Are they even alive?'_ – Those three questions kept ringing again and again in her head as she ran as fast as she could.

The wraiths wouldn't be expecting her, oh no, they will go straight to the light. Her feet hurt from the pounding. Fire, she needed fire, but there was no place to get it now. Ivy bit her lip as she kept on sprinting to the watchtower.

 _'I will shield them with just my flesh if that's what it takes.'_

It felt like centuries before she reached the stairs, scaling them like never before, taking three steps at a time. Ivy unsheathed her sword, steeling her nerves. If this was the end, then she will make it one worth remembering.

She heard panting, steps behind her and her eyes caught glimpse of a torch. The ranger was alive! Her heart rejoiced and her limbs were filled with new vigour, the sight of the dancing flame waking up something inside of her.

Cold fear overtook her when she heard the unmistakeable scream of a hobbit just as she reached the top of the stairs and with thought she shouted a battle cry before lunging at the ringwraith with her entire weight, kicking the wretched creature away.

The hobbits looked terrified, scattered about with only Frodo behind her, but it was enough. She couldn't see him, no doubt the fool had worn the ring in panic, but she could still hear him.

Ivy stood with her teeth bared.

"Don't you even dare touch him you foul wretched thing!"

It was all she had the chance to scream before challenged into a duel by one of the five wraiths present there. She met the blows, startled by the raw strength behind them, but she did not allow the wraith to move her, standing firmly in its way so it couldn't get to Frodo. Slashing at anything she could reach – face, hands, legs, anything to throw the creature away from Frodo.

Ivy's heart was beating, blood rushing through her ears as the ranger joined the fray, taking her side, his blade flashing furiously and lighting one of the wraiths in flames. The clothed figure lit up like a torch and with their joined skills they managed to draw the wraiths away. Ivy only heard Samwise call out Frodo's name and rushed past them, to help his master. They couldn't let the halflings distract them, one mistake and they'd all be dead.

It was adrenaline that kept her going and they were clearly gaining the upper hand. With a kick of her foot she managed to send one of the wraiths over the edge and toppling down.

Fire seemed to panic them, disarray their ranks and blind them even further as their attacks were uncoordinated and the wraith in flames managed to run into another, promptly setting him blazing up in a matter of seconds.

They escaped, leaving only one of them behind, but Aragorn sensed the wraiths presence and turned around, impressively throwing the torch right into the hood of the wraith. It embedded deep into the faceless pit, lighting up the undead and drawing several screams from it before it followed the rest and escaped.

Ivy glanced around quickly before she was certain that this was it. She was alive…She had survived five ringwraiths in the middle of the night. Her daydream's shattered when her ear's caught Aragorn's words,

"He's been stabbed by a morgul blade…"

The woman whipped around sharply.

"Frodo needs elven medicine, now. The way ahead was clear but now…" Her voice trailed off helplessly.

Aragorn shook off the doubts that were creeping up on him and he easily lifted Frodo over his shoulder, carrying him like a sack of potatoes.

* * *

They hurried across the plains into the woods, the shadow functioning as their shield and cover while they were still surrounded by the recognisable and agitated screams of the wraiths.

So much for scouting ahead…Ivy cursed her eagerness; she should've stayed with the hobbits. They would've never drawn attention to them had she been there to refuse their little cook fire.

"We're six days from Rivendell! He'll never make it!" shouted poor Sam, jogging and dragging his precious pony with their provisions and supplies.

Ivy knew that he was right, but this fact proved irrelevant in her books. No one in this company will allow Frodo to die under their watch. They will come out of this alive, all six of them.

"Less talking, more running!" She urged the hobbits onwards, knowing very well that they might just collapse.

Her body convulsed at the slightest movement in the shadows, her hand instinctively ready to draw her sword. The darkness was deceiving her and playing with their senses. This was quite possibly, hell.

* * *

They kept on pressing forward, pushing their bodies to the limits until they reached, what seemed to be three huge statues of trolls looming over them. Their presence was nothing short of unsettling, even if they were made of stone.

The hobbits seemed to recognise those statues from a familiar tale of Frodo's uncle. Aragorn called over Sam, leaving Merry, Pippin and Frodo to Ivy's care who was already on her knees and trying to heat up Frodo.

"He's going cold…" She muttered, wrapping the halfling in her leather coat in a futile attempt to keep him even slightly warmer.

Aragorn rushed off to Valar knows where, with Sam at his tails. Ivy's heart calmed significantly when they returned and she nearly tripped over her feet and backed away from Frodo as her eyes widened.

It was a dark haired elven woman, more beautiful than anyone that Ivy had ever witnessed. Even in travel gear this elf looked regal, her hair braided with the delicacy of nimble elven fingers.

She rode to the astride a strong and muscular mare, her presence seemingly lifting the darkness around them. The air was suddenly easier to breathe and for the first time in days, Ivy felt some sort of peace take over her.

The woman knelt down to Frodo, softly spoken elven words falling from her lips, the foreign language sounding melodious and a lot like song to her. The hobbit's breaths were reduced to desperate rasps, only aggravated further as Strider returned to his side, spreading some sort of herbal paste on the wound that was taking a corpse-like discolouration.

"He's not going to make it, we must get him to my father." Was her firm decision.

They exchanged quick yet desperate words with Aragorn, who helped Frodo on top of the beautiful horse. Neither Ivy nor the hobbits could understand the elven tongue, but she did hear her final words, firm and resolute.

"I do not fear them."

Aragorn gripped her hand, his heart aching both in longing and fear for her safety. The wraiths will team up and they will go after her. Aragorn stepped back, there was no time for further arguing, and he trusted this woman. Trusted her with his heart.

"Ride hard, and don't look back."

* * *

 **Council of Elrond coming up next! I can't wait to start writing the actual quest itself now that Frodo will be safe and sound and the rest of the cast introduced. I can promise you that I won't be updating twice a day henceforth, but I was just missing the last to blocks of this chapter and I was determined to finish it by tonight :) Lots of love to _Oakenshield's star_ for another lovely edit to make this chapter much easier to read!**

 **Yours truly,**

 **cm**


	3. The Council of Elrond

3\. The Council of Elrond

* * *

By the time Aragorn, Ivy and the remaining three hobbits reached the borders of Rivendell, Frodo still remained fast asleep. News of his survival and continuous nourishment to health, thanks to Lord Elrond's efforts, was almost relief enough to bring Samwise down to his knees in joy and broke Aragorn's stoicism, morphing his worry lines into a large smile.

They were greeted and invited to the safety of Lord Elrond's halls in the dead of night, which they gladly accepted. Word had already been sent out and a secret council was to take place in one week.

Ivy had never set foot in an elven settlement before, merely observed them from a distance when her travels took her through the magic-infused woods of Lorien or the sombre realm of Mirkwood. Yet Rivendell, hidden deep in the valleys of the Misty Mountains and framed by the river Bruinen was all but foreign to her.

The moment her eyes set sight upon the beauty of this elven hall, time seemed to be brought to a halt. All of her studies of history and elven lore could not even begin to describe the splendour that she was witnessing and the woman bit back a smile.

 _'For once, I am truly grateful for this life. To have the chance to see the world, even with all its perils. Moments like these make it all worth the scars...'_

It even escaped her notice when the hobbits were ushered away to be bathed and fed before sent off to their feathery beds for a good night's sleep. There is no rest for the wicked and the two scouts accompanying the ring bearer were notified that Lord Elrond wished their presence, before they, too, would be allowed to close their eyes and leave their worries behind for a number of hours.

Ivy noticed how Aragorn moved in this setting with ease, as if he was familiar with this place.

 _'No_ ', She thought while sinking back a few steps _, 'this goes beyond the familiarity of a few visits.'_

No elf was accompanying them to Lord Elrond, even though there were plenty of them still up and about. They saw no need, and the pair had stopped more than once for Aragorn to exchange smiles and niceties in elven.

"Just who are you?" She demanded "You speak like one of them, you walk these halls like one who has been bred here, yet my eyes are looking upon a man."

The words sounded too much like accusations for her taste. They stood still in the open corridor, surrounded by the sounds of nocturnal insects and flowing water. Even in this situation Ivy found it hard to focus on Aragorn instead of their surroundings.

Elven architecture was beyond anything she could've ever imagined. The monumental building seemed to be perched on the side of a mountain, with numerous waterfalls surrounding the premises.

Stone archways, carefully carved statues of the legends from songs adorned the walls, flowers bloomed and smelt sweeter than any other – this place was built upon elven magic. No detail was left without notice and every nook and cranny seemed to serve a purpose.

The man in question took this chance to study the hunter before him. Lord Elrond's magic will not allow evil pass the borders of his halls, that should warrant some trust, but Aragorn was hesitant to reveal his true name to this woman, unknowing who this information might reach.

"I'm Aragorn, son of Arathorn, lady Ivy. I was brought here when young and indeed, was raised amongst the elves." He confessed, but it hardly felt like a secret.

Here, Aragorn didn't feel the need to hide his origins, even if he wished to escape from it. The name rang a bell in her mind.

"Ranger of the north…the heir to the throne of Gondor." The words echoed her train of thought.

Long ago, before her training was completed, the Nameless tried to locate Isildur's heir, convinced that the rightful king of Gondor could do more good than a steward, but their efforts were fruitless. Having travelled with the ranger, it wasn't completely impossible that Aragorn had simply disappeared when necessary and thus avoided contact.

Aragorn nodded, recognising the titles as truth.

"Indeed, you speak no lies. As a sign of good faith may I ask you to keep this knowledge to yourself?" His voice betrayed no signs of anger or irritation, it was an honest request.

Gandalf wished to keep Aragorn's existence stowed away from the dark lord for his own safety, there was too much risk involved letting this information travel freely. The woman lowered her gaze respectfully.

"I understand the delicacy of this. Worry not, I'm here under no one's agenda but my own, and my decisions are entirely mine, regardless of my belonging to the brotherhood."

And with the exchange of a few simple lines a sort of understanding was formed between the two, akin to friendship. Aragorn was the first to break this moment, his senses returning to normal.

"Indeed, may we continue? It isn't wise to keep our host waiting, and no doubt you wish to dine and sleep as much as I."

He was uncomfortable under her scrutiny, and Ivy acknowledged that and decided to let the matter drop right now. There was a twinge of jealousy in the pit of her stomach, not because of Aragorn's heritage, but because he had a heritage.

Who was she? The only name given to her was Ivy, three measly letters to represent the thoughts and feelings of a being with no background to speak of.

She shook away this long forgotten urge and straightened up, attempting to keep some dignity despite their haggard appearances. They hadn't bathed in a week and their clothes were caked with dirt and sweat, and that was going to be this Lord's first impression of her. No, he will not care about appearances, and neither should I.

The thought powered her somewhat and vigour returned to her steps. Aragorn noticed the storm of emotions that passed over her face during the course of a few short moments with a stroke of amusement.

People always seemed to reveal their true thoughts and feelings in the halls of Imladris, the safety of these walls tearing down any defences that one might've put up, suddenly even the weapons she donned seemed less threatening. For Aragorn, this was home. Each smell and sound was familiar; he knew the palace like the back of his hand and…

The man's thoughts trailed to Arwen with an aching longing. Wherever she belonged, he would accept as home. News that his love had escaped the nine with no injuries had lifted an entire boulder from Aragorn's shoulders.

The man was unsure if he could live with the responsibility of having sent the elf to her early demise, but there was no more room in his mind for such ominous thoughts. They found Lord Elrond in his study, along with one more.

"Mithrandir!" exclaimed Aragorn in surprise, bowing his head in respect of the wizard, and his dear friend "My lord Elrond," acknowledged the future king "I thank you for welcoming us under your protection."

Ivy gaped at the two figures from the legends now standing in front of her. Lord Elrond was, to her knowledge, several thousand years old, yet his face showed little signs of aging and the man's long hair was still a vibrant brown, a stark contrast to the grey wizard. The woman had dealings with the wizard before over the course of nearly two decades, but those were merely brief encounters.

Remembering her manners, she quickly bowed.

"As do I, we've never met, but I suspect you've had dealings with my brothers and sisters in the past. Ivy of the Nameless, at your service."

Their words were met with kind smiles and an invitation for supper, and suddenly amongst this ancient elf with his flowing robes, Ivy's insecurities about her state of smell returned.

"You must be weary, we may dine while you share your account of what has happened." declared Elrond, leading Aragorn to the balcony with a light wave of his hand with Gandalf and Ivy following close behind.

"It has been years, has it not, lady Ivy? Last time we met you had just budded into adulthood." Said the old wizard jestingly, earning an earnest smile from the blonde woman which seemed to soften her features just a little bit.

"Your memory fares well, Grey Wizard, though all my travelling is done alone now."

The robed man, cheerfully smoking a pipe pulled out a chair for Ivy, a sign of curtsy she had not witnessed in a while.

"Then let's enjoy this encounter, despite the circumstances."

After weeks of sitting on tree stumps and wooden stools, the lightly cushioned chair felt like the Valar themselves were massaging her aching muscles as Ivy sank into the chair with an audible happy sigh. Aragorn was much more reserved in his relief, but cracked a smirk at the woman's display nevertheless.

Gandalf took a seat next to Elrond who looked like an elven prince under the bright moonlight with his intricate braids and solemn eyes, though the elf emitted nothing but kindness around him.

They were served a light dinner of roasted vegetables, nuts, honey and fruits, all washed down with fine elven wine. The pair accepted the food gladly and with humble thanks, dining in focused silence.

Elrond did not bring up more pressing matters until their bellies were full and some of their strength returned, asking for their separate recounts of the adventure. Aragorn motioned for Ivy to begin, out of politeness, and so she did.

She spoke about Isengard, the reports she had received from the east and what had driven her to chase the nazgul. There Gandalf interrupted her with a kind smile.

"I fear that your accomplice witnessed my escape from Saruman. He has betrayed us."

Aragorn and Ivy stared wide-eyed.

"This...how can this be? Saruman has always been a friend and ally." Her voice was barely a whisper as her body ached to send out word to the scouts.

If any one of them tried to make contact or attempt to 'rescue' the wizard from his orc captors...They needed to know.

"His mind has been poisoned and he has allied with the enemy."

There was no lie in Gandalf's eyes and the two rangers were left in their stupor. Saruman was renowned for his wisdom and great power, if someone as him could fall to darkness, what chance do the rest have? Ivy glanced between the two elders.

"Do you grant me permission to spread this information? I can't have any of our men or women even near that place."

"It would be wise to get word out as quickly as possible, but leave it to the morn." Elrond's words were final and left no room for argument.

In any other situation Ivy rarely hesitated to share news with her brethren, but this? The one ring, the heir of Isildur and Saruman succumbing to Sauron's will - those matters were way above any human's station.

"I will see it done, if you still have any of our ravens here, but let us continue."

So the time came for Aragorn to share his part of the tale, though Ivy would've loved to hear Gandalf's account of what had happened in Isengard. If the great eagle was there to save the wizard, then the only logical deduction was that he had been taken prisoner.

She listened with a tranquil expression how Aragorn had entered Bree and the events that took place in the Prancing Pony. He gave a brief overview of their travels and the attack at Weathertop. Lord Elrond grew grim at the mention of the morgul blade.

"The wound may heal, but Frodo will be forever scarred by the dark magic that touched him that night."

"Were it not for the brave heart of that elf, I don't think Frodo would've lived." Ivy voiced her praise, still unknowing that it was the daughter of Lord Elrond himself that had brought salvation to them that night.

The elf cast a pointed look towards Aragorn, who met it head on.

"You speak of Arwen, my only daughter."

This interaction was not missed by Ivy who had to bite back a smile at the protective father figure. Such high standards did this man have, if the heir to the throne of Gondor was not an acceptable suitor. Even a blind man could've seen the longing gazes those two had exchanged. And the way Aragorn had gripped the elf's fingers before letting her leave?

Gandalf chuckled into his beard gleefully.

"And quite an impressive feat of magic that she accomplished. I wish I could've been there to bear witness."

Ivy sat forward in her seat, looking for answers in the faces of the men around her,

"Do tell." She urged on the old wizard, her enthusiasm breaking the grim mask of Lord Elrond who seemed to beam like a proud father, though he tried to suppress it.

"She brought down the wrath of the river, washing away all the wraiths that were chasing her. I doubt they'll recover any time soon."

Ivy was filled with new discovered awe. To think that this fair, delicate woman wasn't a pampered piece of fluff, but a real warrior, one powerful enough to stare down the nine. She bit back the urge to blow a whistle.

"Remind me never to irritate her."

The air seemed to grow significantly lighter as they put dark matters behind for the time being and the prospect of a bath didn't seem far off.

"You have several days to rest easy, while our allies gather here from the corners of the world," announced Elrond "there's to be a meeting to decide the fate of Middle Earth."

Somehow the elf showed remarkable talent at returning to unpleasant topics, or perhaps it was the world that was taking an unpleasant turn.

Ivy nodded, deciding then and there to be a part of it. If not invited, she'd just sneak her way in, but hopefully that was not the case.

"You mentioned rest?" She noted, holding up a finger in a weak attempt to draw attention "Is there any chance I could visit a bath before that, since we're already exploiting the many comforts of your house?"

* * *

The days passed in a whirl for all travelers. Frodo awoke the day after the arrival of Aragorn and Ivy, the latter had found not one but five ravens of the Nameless in Rivendell and quickly utilised four of them. They traded blades and tainted travel clothes for soft velvet and silks, all thanks to the consideration of Lord Elrond.

Each day stranger guests arrived to Rivendell, a mixture of foreigners these halls had never witnessed. Elves from Mirkwood, the dwarves of Erebor, men from Gondor - this was the gathering of races.

Even the tranquility of Rivendell couldn't quite erase the tensions that were up. Ivy had heard of the hostility of dwarves and elves, but to see it first hand was quite something else.

The dwarves spoke their harsh language, a stark contrast to the song-like elven, casting glances at the Mirkwood elves while the latter pretended not to notice, but both sides refused to speak the common tongue to avoid misunderstandings. One thing that stuck out was the way one of the older dwarfs behaved towards a blond elven man. Deciding that the dwarf was less scarier of the two, Ivy decided to question about what drew forth such a strong display of verbal onslaught.

The dwarf, Gloin as he introduced himself, snorted through the thick and magnificent beard that could've easily been tucked into his belt.

"That woodland sprite once imprisoned me and my kin." And that was all the explanation he offered.

Ivy couldn't get enough of the wonders of Lord Elrond's home. To discover that so many connected to the quest to reclaim Erebor were present was one thing, but to stumble upon the hero of the first age, Glorfindel was nothing short of breathtaking.

Yet the days of peace couldn't last much longer. Her blades were sharpened and her travel gear washed. On the morn of the council Ivy dressed in dark blue from head to toe, the colours of the brotherhood, leaving her crest proudly glinting on her chest, before departing to the courtyard.

This wing of Elrond's halls had been purposefully emptied for that day and in a circular courtyard a number of chairs were laid out in a circle around a stone table, the largest and most elaborate one left for the Lord of the house. Ivy wasn't surprised to discover that she was the only woman here.

 _'Oh great, another bunch of men I have to prove myself to.'_

The brightly lit courtyard was basked in the golden glow of the sun shining through the leaves that shielded them. Though it did little to dispell the evil that was amongst them.

She was pleased to discover that she wasn't the last one to arrive, and a seat to Aragorn's right was still available. With her head held high she walked across the stone floor, proudly ignoring the stares and baffled whispers of the lords around her, sitting next to the ranger.

She was no damsel in a flowing dress, but a Nameless with the brotherhood's dagger gleaming on her hip. The pommel was decorated with their sigil and in the end glinted a dark blue sapphire.

"Well," She breathed, "you look extremely uncomfortable in finery."

The jab was enough to earn a smile from Aragorn who was trying to keep his demeanour serious.

"Uncomfortable perhaps, but smells better than leathers worn for a week." The retort made her bite back a bark of laughter.

Ivy gazed around, her features making her appear wild.

"They don't think a woman belongs here," She noticed one of the elves eyeing the crest hanging around her neck pointedly "...and they don't seem to particularly approve my affiliations."

Aragorn turned to the woman, grasping her shoulder in a gesture of assurance.

"You have proven your prowess as a warrior and a survivor, that's what matters and if need be I will vouch for you."

A feeling of warmth spread in her chest and Ivy nodded, unsure how to convey just how much Aragorn's words had meant. The elven prince seemed to calm his suspicions just a fraction at the display, and it didn't escape Ivy's attention. Acquaintances? Or perhaps even friends?

At last arrived Gandalf and Frodo, accompanied by Lord Elrond. Ivy flashed a welcoming smile to Frodo, as he was as foreign in this council as was she. Their eyes met and the hobbit seemed to draw courage from this, answering with a resolute nod.

All eyes were focused on Elrond, as he greeted everyone on the council, declaring the true purpose of their gathering, his tone only emphasising the significance of the coming events. Now was the time to cast aside all racial prejudice. Frodo looked ready to jump out of his skin when the tall elf turned to him.

"Bring forth the ring, Frodo."

Everyone grew eerily silent, waiting in anticipation as Frodo walked to the stone pedestal and placed upon in the One Ring, a simple golden band. As soon as it had left his possession he seemed to visibly relax as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. All eyes were turned to the ring or power, now so innocently in front of them. Was this little ring truly the source of so much despair?

Ivy couldn't take her eyes off of it. Was there really no way to...use this ring for good? It was faint in the air, but it almost felt like there were whispers coming from the ring, beckoning her.

Ivy jumped when Aragorn flicked her arm, drawing her attention away from the ring, but broken eye contact was all she needed. The woman stared into his eyes, frightened of her own thoughts and her heart hammering against her ribcage.

Ivy was, for lack of a better word, ashamed. How could she be drawn to the lure of the ring so easily? There wasn't time to wallow in self-pity for another caught her eye. A man of Gondor, finely dressed and obviously the highest ranking in their bunch, was up and walking about. Sounds returned to the world and Ivy was finally able to focus enough to listen,

"Isildur's bane is found…"

His voice trailed off and his hand reached forth for the ring. Ivy shot a concerned look to Gandalf and Elrond, her mind screaming for them to do something.

"Boromir!" warned Elrond who had leaped to his feet, but a more threatening presence made itself known.

Dark clouds seemed to form as Gandalf the Grey stood tall and dangerous, uttering words in a language so foul that it seemed to zap power from a human's limbs.

Lord Elrond was nearly slumped in his chair as if the words physically hurt him, the Mirkwood elves fared only slightly better, but it was enough to break Boromir's daze and send him taking steps backwards.

And then it was over. Elrond's face held both shock and anger and for the first time Ivy was terrified of the elf.

"Never before has anyone uttered the words of that tongue here in Imladris!"

The skies cleared, and Gandalf was back to his usual mannerisms.

"I do not ask your pardon, Master Elrond."

Ivy held back a snort.

 _'You damn well should.'_

"For the Black Speech of Mordor may yet be heard in every corner of the West."

"The ring is alltogether evil," He finished, finally resuming his position.

Yet Boromir was not done, he tried to convince the council to take the ring to Gondor and use it against Sauron. It was only then that Ivy found her strength to speak up, her pride refusing to listen to such folly any longer.

"While I admire your patriotism, do you honestly believe that anyone here can wield the ring in which Sauron poured all of his cruelty? And to top it off let us drag it right to his doorstep? How about we send a messenger as well, to let him know when exactly we'll be arriving?"

She stood tall, facing the captain from Gondor head on, the challenge evident in her icy eyes. Over my dead body, said her appearance. A few whispers began, and Aragorn joined her voice.

"I agree with the Nameless, you can't wield it. No one here has control of this evil."

The mention of this organisation sent another wave of hushed whispers and Ivy felt every pair of eyes upon her.

Boromir was no exception, eyeing the ranger and the woman with distaste.

"And what would two nomads know of such matters?" He retaliated with wounded pride.

The elven prince stood sharply, confirming Ivy's suspicions. They're very close friends, and have been for a long time.

"This is no mere ranger you're speaking to. He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and heir to the throne of Gondor."

It was a blessing that Frodo wasn't holding anything fragile, for he would've dropped it or crushed it in surprise of this revelation. Strider had been a mystery, but the thought that it was Isildur's heir protecting him hadn't crossed his mind.

Ivy noticed with pleasure how much effect those words had on Boromir, his eyes filled with disbelief. Aragorn held up his hand, saying something in elvish to the prince of Mirkwood that caused the latter to sit back down. Boromir slumped back into his seat, clearly distraught.

"Gondor has no king, Gondor needs no king." His voice was full of scorn, such that it sent another bout of anger flowing through Ivy's body.

"Does Gondor also follow no laws? Who are you to deny the throne to the rightful heir?" She barked at the man, her voice rising just enough to be noticeable.

"Ivy!" said Aragorn in a low-voice, ushering the woman to drop the matter.

The Nameless will rather remove opposition than deny the rightful king his throne, just as they will remove a madman from rule. Gandalf stepped in before this turned into a full-out verbal onslaught.

"Aragorn and Ivy are right, we cannot use it."

The woman released a humourless laugh.

"Which leaves us with only one option...To destroy it."

She sat down back in her seat, feeling nauseous all of a sudden. A young dwarf jumped to his feet eagerly.

"What are we waiting for then?" He growled and charged forward, bringing his great axe down upon the ring.

It shattered, much to their horror, the force throwing the dwarf on his back. His kin rushed to help him up and it seemed that he was unharmed, while Ivy noticed Frodo gripping his head, as if the attack had been hurled at him. The ring's whispering grew louder at this, as if the force it bore was angered by this insolence.

"The ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Gloin, by any craft that we here possess. The ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom and there it can be unmade. The ring must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fires from whence it came."

Silence fell upon the courtyard, as the gravity of Elrond's words became clear.

"One of you must do this."

Boromir was the first to break the silence, voicing Ivy's thoughts.

"One does not simply walk into Mordor. There is more behind those black gates than just orcs, and the Great Eye is always awake, watchful. Even with ten thousand men at your back this quest is folly."

Legolas jumped to his feet, protesting, and from there on all hell broke lose as one race tried to outscream one another. Old wounds were torn open and Ivy found herself trying to break the verbal duel of dwarves and elves - a task that could compare with destroying the ring itself. The council caved into chaos, but her ears picked up a familiar voice.

"I will take it!"

The woman stopped and turned at the hobbit, arms dropping to her side. No one but her picked up the hobbit's words so he repeated them, louder and with more confidence, his doubts disappearing.

"I will take it!"

Silence fell as Frodo was met with looks of disbelief. Gandalf closed his eyes and it seemed as if he was praying. Frodo had carried it this far, but to willingly agree to take it to Mordor? That was a burden even Ivy didn't want to shoulder, lest she succumbed to the temptation of the ring.

"I will take the ring to Mordor, though I do not know the way."

Gandalf smiled gently at the hobbit, the small creatures never ceased to surprise him.

"I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, as long it is yours to bear."

The old man took the hobbit's side, gripping his shoulder. Aragorn was the second one to stand and he strode to Frodo, lowering himself on one knee.

"If by my life or death I can protect you, I will. You have my sword."

Gandalf and Elrond exchanged smiles, this display of loyalty feeding new hope to them. The prince of Mirkwood could not let his friend face these perils alone and he joined the ever growing group.

"And you have my bow."

"And my axe," said the young dwarf.

 _'You just smashed your axe.'_ Thought the rogue with mild amusement.

Ivy stood from her seat, firm in her beliefs, drawing eyes upon herself as she stepped up to Frodo.

"Duty drove me to see you to safety, I can not abandon you now. My sword is here to serve you, and the Nameless Ones will lend their power."

She stood behind Frodo and Ivy caught sight of Boromir joining the group, his eyes lingering on them for a mere moment.

"You carry the fate of us all, little one. If this is indeed the will of the council, then Gondor will see it done."

This man was so proud of his kingdom, his heritage, his...origins, there was a strange appeal to it in Ivy's eyes.

A hobbit burst forward from the bushes, running forward.

"Mister Frodo's not going anywhere without me!" He declared with a stout heart.

Lord Elrond seemed to withhold his laughter.

"No indeed, as it seems that it is hardly possible to separate you, even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not."

"Oi! We're coming too!" cried out another fair voice.

Elrond's head whipped around, astonished at how the hobbits had managed to slip in unnoticed, as Merry and Pippin ran out from behind two pillars.

"You'd have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us." Threatened Merry, his tone firm.

Pippin continued on,

"You need people of intelligence on this sort of mission...quest…" a pause "...thing." He finished lamely.

Ivy couldn't hold back the unladylike snort of laughter. To say something like this to a being who is over thousands of years old? Priceless.

"Well that rules you out, Pip." retorted Merry.

Elrond looked upon them with pride. There was still hope left in this world to combat the doom that was upon them.

"So be it, you shall be the Fellowship of the Ring!"

"Great!" exclaimed Pippin before confusion took over "Where are we going?"

Ivy was not the only one who, by now, was probably biting the insides of her cheeks to blood in a futile attempt to hide her giggles. Were they seriously bringing all four hobbits along?

Boromir was the first to speak up.

"We have no time to look after a woman during this trip."

Before Aragorn could open his mouth to retort a defense for Ivy, the woman had whipped around, eyes narrowed.

"You listen carefully, Boromir of Gondor," She muttered, hands placed upon her hips "I was raised in the ranks of the Nameless Ones, bred to fight since I was five. Don't you dare lump me in the same heap with your soft, silky damsels that squeak at the sight of a mouse!"

Boromir's eyes flickered to the dagger strapped to her hip, taking a wary step back to get away from the rage that oozed out from the woman. Aragorn stepped in, in some faint hope to lighten this tension.

"I was fighting by her side when we encountered five of the nazgul, and she is every bit a worthy warrior as any of us here."

His words seemed to make enough impression that whatever protests were left died down.

Ivy sighed.

"Look, we'll need to trust one another on this long journey. Trust me when I say this - I can guard your back."

She extended her hand, as a sign of peace. Boromir looked at it for a long moment, before gripping it firmly as they put their quarrels at rest.

Frodo smiled at this display as tensions seemed to dissolve.

"A fellowship indeed…" He mused.

Ivy looked down at the hobbits before grinning.

"Come along now, I'm sure Lord Elrond will throw a nice parting feast. This will be the last decent meal we'll get in a while!"

The newly found fellowship stayed behind, making polite introductions while the council dissolved. Who would've thought that the fate of Middle-Earth was destined to be in the hands of a hobbit?

So it began.

* * *

 **And now comes the real challenge of nailing all the characters of the fellowship...** **I do warn you that my university exams are coming up during the next two weeks so I might be quiet for a while, but I hope to finish the next chapter before my last exam.**

 **Much thanks to Oakenshield's Star for their quick and amazing beta-powers. Don't forget to follow, favourite and/or review 3**

 **Enjoy your new year's eve, hopefully 2017 won't kill off _all_ of my favourite celebrities. Much love, party hard!**

 **cm**


	4. The Long Road

4\. The Long Road

* * *

She had been correct, the fellowship had a long and dignified feast in their honour. Although Ivy found it to be a rather boring one. She wanted to see dancing, hear laughter and feel alive in this eve, yet…nothing.

Although the blatant racism between elves and dwarves was entertainment enough for the time being. After a few glasses of wine she found it suitable to excuse herself for the night. If there was one thing she was happy about it was the prospect of meat when they were on the road.

Elves…and their animal friendly gentle nature.

It was in the early hours of dawn when Ivy realised that she could not sleep, not even a wink. Despite her calm and harsh demeanour the woman's insides were shaking, twisting, turning and eating her alive. After several hours of restless trashing, she concluded that sleep was only a distant and far away dream.

She kicked off the soft elven blankets, and made her way across the room to the small basin by the mirror, well aware that such luxury like silk blankets and clean water won't be available again for months.

As a habit she washed her face with cold water before gripping the edges of the table, staring at the woman in the mirror. She was no one, and always will be. Her brothers and sisters might miss her if she perished during this quest, but even they would soon move on.

Ivy sighed and straightened up, giving her reflection a sombre smile. The elven nightgown seemed so foreign on her toned body, falling gracefully around her feet. In another world, perhaps, she would've made a fine shield maiden.

The image was quickly broken and with one swift movement she removed the garment, folding it and placing it neatly on the bed. She shivered in her underclothes, wearing nothing but the brotherhood's necklace and quickly located her travel gear, now washed and mended by the elves, making it as good as new.

It was late December, and Ivy had no illusions about the conditions they were facing. It was going to be harsh and cold, with little to no food available. Much to her surprise, the elves had thought two steps ahead and had provided her with another pair of breeches and a thick, warm shirt to wear under her usual clothes.

She piled all of those on before lacing up her sturdy and trusty leather boots. Ivy had missed the feel of daggers in her boots or the weight of her blade on her hip, she felt whole again now that those items were safely on her person again.

Donning weapons in the house of Elrond would've been unnecessary, not to mention an insult to their host. She put on the dark leather coat, hiding the brotherhood's dagger into the chest pocket before grabbing her bow and bag and leaving the room.

She wondered the halls, pacing aimlessly and killing time until it was time to leave. What she didn't expect was to find the Gondorian man from earlier pacing around, not much unlike her.

He was travelling light, with only a small pack and his weapons, and a white horn of Gondor strapped around him. They abruptly halted so as not to collide into one another before staring at each other.

"Sleep is eluding you as well, I see." She noted dryly, in an attempt at a civil conversation.

It wouldn't fare well to allow this to become a shouting match as well. Boromir's body language was rigid, but his upbringing kept him from walking away in the other direction.

"Are you frightened, my lady?" He asked, words cutting sharply into the core of her heart.

What irritated the woman though was that he made it sound like a weakness. She crossed her arms across her chest.

"Only a fool wouldn't be. Fear is what keeps us alive."

It had provided her with surges of strength and sudden cunning in moments when she was cornered with death as the only exit. Ivy used her fear as fuel, also treating it as a debilitating weapon against others.

The Gondorian captain cracked a smile at her remarks.

"If only a sharp tongue was all that one needed."

Fear is what kept people alive, indeed, but it was also the quickest way to dissolve an army's morale. It takes tremendous courage for man to supress his primal instincts of flight and face whatever impending doom him head on.

Ivy held back a sigh, her face not betraying any emotion.

"I was impolite earlier, but you have not seen my blade in action. I've spent nearly two decades in the wild; you don't have to think of me as a liability."

Niceties were a waste of breath with a man like Boromir, who had proven to be straightforward and honest. It would only do well to treat him with equal respect. This seemed to pique the man's interest, she could tell by the flickering spark in his eyes,

"Would you share a story or two about your travels then?"

The woman was completely taken aback by this request, her composure faltering for a brief moment. Icy eyes looked unforgiving and harsh as she examined this man before her, before making up her mind.

"All right then, how about we find some place to sit?"

And so she told him about the lands she had passed and the strange animals she had encountered in the wilds, the wrongs she had corrected and the wonders of elven forests. At first her descriptions were vague and her accounts short, but with some prompting and prodding from Boromir they managed to find common ground.

In return the captain of Gondor spoke about what it was like to live by the shadow of Mordor and the hardships his people faced. The frequent raids and battles with orcs were just the tip of the iceberg.

The remaining hours seemed to fly by and their relationship levelled from antagonistic to amicable. It earned more than a few surprised looks when the two of them, who had just been quarrelling ferociously the other day, entered the hall as friends.

* * *

It seemed that every elf in Elrond's household had come to witness the fellowship's parting. They stood scattered about, silently observing this historical moment with a mixture of hope and sadness in their faces.

It didn't escape Ivy's notice that Arwen's gaze did not falter from Aragorn, not even once. Ivy's heart constricted at this display, it was strangely comforting to know that there was man of flesh and blood under Aragorn's skin.

Gimli exchanged a few harsh phrases in khuzdul with his father before the two embraced. It was short and straightforward, while it seemed like Legolas took a good two weeks to farewell with every elf that happened upon his way.

The hobbits stood on their own, just like Ivy, as they had no kin here to weep for their parting. Except for Sam who was reunited with his favourite pony, Bill, sneaking the animal something from his palm every now and then. Boromir and Aragorn stood side by side, waiting for Lord Elrond's departing words. The latter was engaged in conversation with Gandalf.

Ivy stood by, envious of the strong bonds these people had with their kin. Who were her parents? Where did her heritage lie? She was like a tree that had been torn from its roots, bound to wither.

The gruff dwarf soon joined their company, snorting in Legolas' general direction,

"Elves…" He grumbled under his breath "Sauron can muster his forces to raze Rivendell before the princeling is done with his farewells."

Boromir and Ivy exchanged a conspiratorial glance before the woman grinned.

"Now-now Gimli, don't let your patience run short."

From the corner of her eye, she noticed the corner of Aragorn's mouth twitch. The jab didn't escape Gimli's notice who chuckled.

"I hope your blade is as quick as that tongue, lass."

"Oh I don't know," She mused "enough to bring a grown man to his knees."

They had to quiet down before Gimli could utter a retort as Legolas and Gandalf, the two missing members, had re-joined the company. Ivy's jesting demeanour melted away as she turned her focus to Lord Elrond.

Will she ever meet this elf again? There was so much wisdom in his head, it radiated to the outside world. If there was one person that she would be willing to spend her time on, it was Lord Elrond. She hadn't even thanked him properly for all that he had done for the company. The ancient elf looked each of them before mustering his parting words.

"The ringbearer is setting out on a quest to Mount Doom. You, who travel with him – no oath or bond is laid for you to travel further than you may."

She felt Aragorn smile behind her. As if any of them would abandon Frodo half-way through the quest. No, they started this together; they will damn well finish this.

Arwen stood to the right, her hands clasped firmly in front of her and Ivy had to supress the urge to just kick Aragorn in the shin and perhaps accidentally push him towards the elleth. Or perhaps a tree would be a more fitting target to vent her frustration on. This must've hurt for him as much as it pained the elven woman that he loved so dearly.

"Farewell, hold to your purpose and the blessings of elves, men and free folk go with you."

Ivy lowered her gaze in respect, accepting these words of parting and memorising every inch of Rivendell, for she wasn't convinced that she'll ever be back. Legolas cast one last look at his kin before placing his hand above his heart as a sign of respect while Aragorn smiled at Arwen in an unspoken promise to survive.

The hobbits looked, for the first time, apprehensive and nervous about the road ahead. Next to these large men they looked so fragile, someone who had to be protected.

"Fellowship of the ring awaits the ringbearer." Declared Gandalf as Frodo's companions split in two, to allow him lead them to their quest.

His eyes flickered to them all, before taking the first steps towards the gates. Gandalf was the first to follow, followed by Boromir, Gimli and Ivy. Only thanks to that could she catch the quiet whisper from Frodo,

"Mordor, Gandalf, is it left or right?"

The woman had to stop herself from snickering at this solemn moment. Aragorn was the last in their column, his feet seemingly stopping as he wished to stop the passage of time.

He looked into the eyes of his beloved, not missing the tears that were threatening to fall as she was keeping her composure. Aragorn smiled, a futile replacement for the embrace that he wished to give her before turning away from the elven woman.

The fellowship had begun their quest to Mordor and there was no turning back now.

* * *

Ivy was enjoying her supper with Merry and Pippin, discussing the delicacy known to men as ale. It was a common topic for all races, although Legolas objected that if any of the company had tasted the wine from the woodland realm, then they would never wish to drink ale again.

Gimli snorted at that.

"Give me a tankard of ale and a hairy dwarf woman any day over wine."

His roughness and straightforward manners made him extremely likeable for Ivy. While he wasn't relatable, she found him much easier to understand than the woodland prince who remained all but a mystery.

She grinned at the elf.

"I will remember to take up that offer. So don't you dare rebuke me when I show up in front of the gates in twenty years, demanding a wine sampling."

He laughed, its melodious tones bouncing around the apartment.

"Elves have a fine memory. I will wait for that day."

The dwarf laughed along, clasping Ivy's arm.

"I'd be careful lass, last time my kin stepped foot in those halls they were thrown into the dungeons."

Legolas bristled at the remark, as it was direct criticism about his father's decisions. Merry glanced between the two.

"I'm sensing a story behind this."

Frodo took the role of a storyteller, given that his uncle Bilbo had been the key member of this quest, but sadly Ivy couldn't stay to listen.

"Ivy!"

Her head shot up to Gandalf and Aragorn who had moved away from the group to pour over maps. The latter was waving her over with his hand. She swallowed the last remnants of dinner and washed it down with a swig of water before heading to them.

"You've travelled your fair share, I'd value your input on which course would be safest to take."

The woman stared at Gandalf for a moment, taken by surprise that the old wizard was even asking for her opinion. This feeling was quickly shaken off as she stared at the splodges of ink and parchment.

"You mean to lead us through the Gap of Rohan?" She asked, met with a nod the woman pursed her lips "But wouldn't that take us too close to Isengard? While I don't doubt your powers, Gandalf, I know that the white wizard is equally cunning."

The grey wizard had thought of this as well and Saruman's betrayal had made a large dent in their plans, but they still had the blessing of secrecy by their side. Saruman was unaware of the fellowship or its existence, and perhaps they could slip by his doorstep unnoticed.

"What do you suggest then?" asked Aragorn, though the answer was obvious.

Ivy sighed, shaking her head at the notion.

"It's bloody winter. The mountains will be hard and treacherous to cross, but I've done it before. Question is would the hobbits survive this route? If we're lucky enough to bypass the month long storm then it could be done."

Another name caught her eyes.

"We could pass the mines of Moria, though I think Gimli could advise better about the state of that place."

Gandalf lowered his eyes, smoking his pipe while ruminating about the choices ahead.

"Moria is the last place I wish to lead us…"

They still had at least two weeks before the fellowship would reach the pass of Caradhras, before that they could argue to their heart's content about the road ahead. Despite their different backgrounds and racial prejudices (to be exact, there were only two members of the fellowship struggling with this), the band of warriors seemed to be getting along bizarrely well. Gimli's doubts about Ivy's capabilities disappeared during the first few days of travel when she managed to shot down an elk.

Actually it may have just been the joy of having meat back on the table once more as the elves themselves abstained from hunting animals. The biggest troubles they faced in the early days of their journey were wolves.

Large, bloodthirsty wolves that launched an attack on their camp at night. After the first attack Aragorn decided to have at least four people on watch, pushing their sleeping schedule to the breaking point.

Yet no one complained and the hobbits' spirits remained high, despite the arduous journey that was ahead. Fate had a strange way of ensuring that everything that could go wrong, will go wrong without a glitch, and both Aragorn and Gandalf were afraid of precisely that.

* * *

The fellowship had made camp after a long day of trekking through hills and mountains, and although Gandalf wished to press forward it was impossible to ignore that they were famished and in need of a break. So it was that under the watchful eye of Caradhras they made camp on a rocky terrain that made it pleasantly impossible to sleep.

Or well, only to those who actually needed sleep. Another thing that was so foreign and strange to Ivy was the discovery that Legolas didn't…he didn't really sleep or need it. She had noticed it when they had to take watches during the night that Legolas often stayed up until first light, not once switching with anyone.

The only way to dispel apprehension about the unknown was to face it head on. Their little encampment was filled with the clinking of swords as Boromir was teaching Merry and Pippin basic swordplay.

It just may save their lives on this trip. Her thoughts left a bitter aftertaste that she was hoping to wash down with some sausages that Sam had cooked. The hobbit hadn't lied, he was an excellent cook, only to further prove that food was the forte of hobbits.

Ivy picked up one of her sausages and dropped it on one of the plates that Sam was holding.

"For Frodo," She said in hushed tones "he needs is strength but his appetite is lamentable."

The stocky hobbit smiled in thanks and walked further away to a rock on which Frodo was sitting, observing the training session below. Aragorn was smoking a pipe just right next to them, shouting out pointers whenever he spotted mistakes.

Gandalf was sitting high upon a rock, but Ivy spotted the elf in question just nearby, watching the horizon. She walked up next to him, coughing in an attempt to make her grilling of him a little less antagonising.

"So, do elves ever sleep? I don't think I could imagine you snoring."

Legolas' mouth quirked at the notion, as if an elf could ever be caught in such an undignified situation before answering.

"Not the way men do." He fell into a momentary silence, as the elf often did while he collected his thoughts.

It wasn't the matter that he was slow of wit, quite the opposite, it was simply the matter of giving a perfect answer.

"I dream whilst awake. Elves enter this sort of…trance. While travelling my mind rests as it walks the strange paths of my dreams, I do not require stopping or even closing my eyes to rest."

Ivy almost choked on her food, eyeing the elf with newly discovered wonder.

"Can your kind get any more perfect?" She asked, completely aghast "You don't sleep, you're immortal, and you obviously don't feel the cold as we do…The perfect travellers."

Legolas finally turned to her, his eyes sparkling with amusement at her compliments, if they could be called such.

"Are there any elves amongst the Nameless?"

Ivy chewed on her sausage while going over the current living members in her head before shrugging.

"Not really, your kind values their children too dearly."

The unspoken questions in his eyes made Ivy lower her plate.

"Most of us have no background to speak of, or memories of it. No family…The first memory I can recall is when I was lost in a forest, completely alone and my mentor found me. Elves don't really have children wondering about. Orphan children are taken care of, while men copulate so easily that there's an abundance of children. No one is going to help some street rat."

"I'm sorry to have brought it up." apologised Legolas, aware that his prodding may open some wounds that were long healed.

Ivy smiled a little, softening her features.

"It's alright. There are those who willingly escape their origins and seek us out. Most are turned away though."

"Why? Wouldn't numbers be more beneficial?"

Legolas was no fool to believe that numbers were all that mattered in the field of battle, but the act of refusing willing recruits seemed unwise. The smile dropped from her face as memories came flooding in.

They ran to them, sharing their tragic stories and motives for leaving – arranged marriages and low status were the common reasons to leave, or perhaps the desire to achieve glory. All of them were…so alive and so unappreciative of what they had.

They were someone. They had roots and their existence had a meaning.

"We aren't called the Nameless Ones for nothing," She jested, although Ivy found nothing funny about this "people with family or memories aren't completely willing to become no one. They will have aspirations, personal motivations that aren't beneficial."

"Like what?"

She had to ruminate for a scant moment before the obvious came to her.

"Hunger for glory, for example. Our job is to better this world, make it better, not to chase glory and hope our name makes it to song. Often the Nameless die an anonymous death, just a number in a battlefield or beheaded after an assassination."

Legolas tilted his head, this seemed like an incredibly sad existence, yet the woman before him didn't look broken.

"What about family or friends?"

Ivy shook her head, biting back an embarrassed smile.

"I'd like to think that the members of the fellowship are my friends."

The elf grasped her shoulder, returning her smile.

"Whatever happens, you can count me amongst your friends, lady Ivy."

Perhaps it was the ethereal presence of the elves or the sincerity of his words, but Ivy felt a whirlwind of emotions that were enough to make anyone dizzy. She hastily excused herself to finish lunch, but not before uttering a silent thanks to the elf.

"If anyone was asking my opinion, which I note they have not, I would say we are taking the long way round."

Gimli's voice boomed over the campsite as he conversed with Gandalf, voicing Ivy's own opinion as well.

Their current course would have them travel for forty days to get to Isengard and hopefully not get caught while trying to bypass Saruman's henchmen. She calmly chewed on the delicious grub, observing the banter with mild curiosity.

Of course Gimli wanted to go through Moria, his kin would be there.

' _It wasn't Erebor, but it would be a piece of home and no doubt a chance to rub the riches of the dwarves right into our princeling's face.'_ She thought with amusement, supressing the grin that threatened to break out.

The conversation with Legolas had initially dampened her mood, but she found comfort in light humour. She looked up and her eyes noticed a strange grey cloud that looked…it looked out of place compared to the surrounding scenery.

The woman squinted her eyes in an attempt to get a better look, but Legolas was way ahead of her, sprinting up to a rock. Of course the elf can surpass her in this aspect as well.

In the distance she heard laughter as a fight broke out between Merry, Pippin and the Gondorian captain as the two pinned him to the ground.

"What is that?" asked Sam who glanced at the foreign formation with suspicion.

He had proven to be the most practical one of the hobbits with his feet firmly to the ground.

"Nothing, it's just a wisp of a cloud." said Gimli, brushing his concerns away with a lazy wave of his hand.

Ivy wasn't liking the feel of this, her instincts were telling her that something wasn't right. Boromir glanced at it, concern evident in his voice,

"It's moving fast…and against the wind!"

"Crebain from Dunland!" shouted Legolas.

In just a second the fellowship was up and clearing the camp. The fire was put out and all traces of their presence erased. Aragorn quickly led Bill under a larger slab of stone while Boromir and Ivy made sure the hobbits were all tucked away before throwing themselves under a shrubbery.

The foul black birds crowed and flapped around them, circling the campsite several times. Ivy exchanged worried glances with Boromir, her fingers firmly around the hilt of the brotherhood's dagger, ready to stab any of those cretins if they chose to fly down and attempt to peck out her eyes.

Yet it didn't happen, the birds merely circled back and headed south from whence they had come. The fellowship excited their hiding places, and a quick look was enough assurance that everyone was fine. Although their quest was not. South was being watched and now Saruman knew that they were coming. The gap of Rohan was no longer safe.

Gandalf looked at Ivy before turning his gaze towards the mountains.

"The south is being watched, we must take the pass of Caradhras."

The woman closed her eyes, counting silent prayers that she had never uttered before in some desperate attempt to will away the storm they might face up there.

"I will help you guide the fellowship through the safest route, to the best of my knowledge."

* * *

 **Happy new year everyone! Thank you all who reviewed, favourited or added the story to your alert list, much love in your general direction.** **Is it just me or is anyone else's stats page really messy right now? As in...can't access it at all?**

 **My professors seem to be ignoring my e-mails so studying is sort of...at a standstill. Damn.** **On a more positive note I'm getting two more tattoos done, hopefully. I sent out some emails to artists and studios and told them about my ideas etc and I'm waiting for responses right now. So close to hitting the 20 000 word mark...**

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter!**


	5. Ice Age

5\. Ice Age

* * *

So far it seemed that the Valar were being generous and their road up the mountain wasn't hindered by storms. The snow was thick and cold, but there was the blue sky and warm rays of sun to lift their spirits. Aragorn was at the head of the column with Gandalf and Ivy, ploughing a road through the heaps of snow.

The woman hated to admit it, but she remembered far less about the mountain roads than she would of liked. Ivy had passed the mountain roads during the summer when Caradhras was much more forgiving and less treacherous.

The rocky paths, nooks and crannies were hidden under the snow, but luckily they weren't trekking by the cliff sides so the hobbits' stumbling merely left them with a mouthful of snow, for now.

Legolas seemed completely unaware of the cold, walking atop the snow as if it were a bed of grass. Ivy marked it down as proof that elves were meant to be travellers, the highest rangers of them all. She exchanged a look with Gandalf.

"Mithrandir, I am not sure the hobbits will make it through the mountains."

Aragorn didn't voice his opinion, but silently agreed, although the man would never doubt Gandalf's judgement.

Truthfully she was doubtful of her own survival as well. Alright, death would be too dramatic, but Ivy was pretty sure she was going to lose a finger or two up there. The wizard grunted,

"Entering Moria would be stupidity, I will leave it as our last option."

His voice was firm and didn't leave much room to argue. For the time being, Ivy merely withheld her disagreement and kept her eyes forward.

She had no choice but to trust the wizard and the woman wouldn't be able to forgive herself if something happened to the company because of her poor guidance. Thus her attention was focused on the road ahead and the mountain peaks in the horizon.

Although cold and harsh, Caradhras was beautiful. This was, strangely, the most peaceful part of their journey thus far. There were no wolves up here and orcs rarely ventured up to the mountains. They had other means of passage. Though Ivy knew that this peace will only last until the storms hit.

 _What's stupidity is climbing the mountains mid-winter._

Aragorn fell back in the line, flanking the fellowship. Ivy bit back a smile – she had noticed Aragorn do this on more than one occasion. He was like the alpha of a wolf pack, always staying at the very back to guard them and control of the situation.

And never would the ranger stray far from Frodo. Aragorn never made promises in vain and he was committed to this quest, blood and soul.

Ivy's eyes examined the sky ahead, her eyes narrowing.

"Gandalf, I have a feeling we might hit a snow storm soon."

The wizard followed her gaze.

"I agree, it'd be best to find shelter."

It went unsaid that both of them knew very well that it was unlikely that they'll stumble upon a cave up there. Even if they did, mountain caves were rarely safe to sleep in. Goblins still hounded the dark depths of the heights.

"And before nightfall, I don't trust these mountains enough to travel in the dark!" She added.

They fell into an amicable silence. Ivy found this part about the wizard incredibly pleasant, he didn't force small talk, wouldn't try to fill the void with empty words unless he had something to say. Not to mention that he saw so much, Ivy was frankly terrified of his knowledge.

A shout from behind caused Ivy to halt and make sure everyone was alright. Frodo had slipped on shale and fallen backwards, somersaulting down the mountainside. Aragorn stopped his fall, catching him and lifting the hobbit back upright, a protective and warm hand gripping his shoulder as a sign of comfort.

It seemed like Frodo was alright, limbs intact and all, but suddenly he began groping around his neck and chest in a panic stricken look. Ivy's stomach dropped at the mere thought of them losing the ring here, in the mountains in _bloody_ snow! It could have slipped anywhere! They will never make it out of here if it sinks deep under the snow.

She headed down, determined to help Frodo find the ring, but she was intercepted. Boromir had found the ring, thank Valar! It hadn't sunk and was shining brightly under the cold winter sun.

He picked it up from the snow with a gloved hand, dangling the golden band in front of his eyes, yet made no movement to return it to Frodo. The fellowship's eyes were all fixated on the Gondorian captain, worried, unsure what to do as time seemed to come to a halt.

"Boromir?" Aragorn broke the silence, his voice laced with concern.

It felt as if the man didn't even hear the voice of his future king. Boromir's eyes remained transfixed on the ring as if he was under a spell, no, _exactly_ like a spell.

"It is a strange fate that we should suffer so much fear and doubt over so small a thing…such a little thing." His voice trailed off, yet he still remained frozen to his spot as if stupefied.

Ivy wanted to hurl a snowball at the man, anything to get him out of this haze. The ring was trying to trick him into abandoning his morals, his beliefs, and quite literally dangling power in front of his eyes. His other hand rose, as if to stroke the ring when Aragorn called out again, this time his voice resonated with authority.

"Boromir!"

This caused the Gondorian to break his eye contact with the ring. He looked taken aback, as if surprised by his own actions, but there was shame evident in his eyes as well.

"Give the ring back to Frodo!" said Aragorn, lowering his voice.

It didn't escape Ivy's notice that his hand had inconspicuously moved to grip the hilt of his sword.

 _'_ _Bloodshed on the first month of the quest? We'll never make it if we just kill one another._ _'_

Only then did she realise, that's exactly what Gandalf meant when he said the ring was treacherous. It was trying to create discord in the fellowship, force them to fight amongst themselves until they were all dead and it could return to Sauron, its master.

Boromir walked down the hillside to Frodo, holding the ring out as if it was made of fire and let it drop to Frodo's hands. He smiled, uneasily.

"As you wish. I care not."

The man ruffled the hobbit's hair who seemed as disturbed as Ivy. His words rang hollow, even Boromir himself didn't believe what he was saying.

The redhead seemingly ignored the situation, climbing higher up the mountain to catch up with the rest, walking past Ivy as if she was invisible. He was just trying to get as far away from the ring as possible in their current predicament.

The woman was shaking, and not because of the cold. She had to do something, had to help Boromir somehow, and judging by the look in Aragorn's eyes he was thinking along similar lines.

* * *

Ivy's prediction had been correct and as they got higher and up the more dangerous paths the wind picked up and the snowfall became harder and stronger. There was no place to rest up there, no cave or dank corner to hide away for the night. Instead they huddled together to the cliffside, the hobbits stowed away between them as they were wearing close to nothing in this weather.

Ivy was snuggled up with Merry under her leather coat, trying to cover them both and share some body heat.

"Well," Merry's teeth were clanking in the cold "I think this is the first time I will complain about being in this sort of situation with a lady."

His attempt to make light of the situation made Ivy laugh.

"On a dangerous quest, stuck in a snowstorm on a mountain? I hate when that happens, don't you?"

She now added Gimli to the list of people who were unaffected by the weather. Dwarfs were made out stout material, that much was known, but what the stories never mentioned that a dwarf man was like a living furnace. There was no doubt that if Gimli stayed on this mountain for a week the snow would melt.

Their rest was feeble and quite frankly, a waste of time. The storm was letting up and if they stayed unmoving for much longer the hobbits and the rest might just freeze to death.

So it was up to Boromir and Aragorn to get everyone up and moving again. Ivy headed to the front of the column to Gandalf, suggesting she went first. They would survive without her, but the fellowship and the quest will be doomed without Gandalf.

Was it night or day? What time was it?

All of it was unclear for the sky was an even damp grey, the wind was howling around, almost as if moaning and made it impossible to converse. Caradhras was relentless, whipping them with cold that bit down to the bone and core.

Whatever horror was down there in Moria became exceedingly more appealing for Ivy as she gritted her teeth and slumped through the snow. Only pride and a sense of duty kept her tongue behind her teeth, and to some extent a healthy fear that the wizard's patience might just snap if she insisted on leaving Caradhras again.

Legolas slipped past from her, walking deftly on the snow and looking around, brow furrowed. The elf didn't like something about this situation and it made Ivy prickle with worry.

"There's a fell voice in the air!" He shouted urgently, but the wind muffled his warning.

Only now did Ivy's ear pick up the distant echo of a deep voice, uttering words in some foreign tongue. Gandalf was like a beacon in this storm:

"It's Saruman!" He shouted, nearly throwing Legolas and Ivy against the cliffside.

There was a deafening rumble of thunder and the fellowship had to witness one lightning bolt hit the mountain, right above them. Aragorn and Boromir covered the hobbits with their large frames, shielding them from whatever may fall from above.

Rock and shale thundered around them, leaving them unaware of the wellbeing of the rest of the fellowship.

 _'_ _Please, please let them all be alright._ _'_

She couldn't bear the thought of any of the small hobbits being crushed by rock. Aragorn looked up, his frantic eyes finally finding Gandalf.

"He's trying to bring down the mountain! We must go back!"

So it took another wizard to drive Aragorn to this stage of fright?

"No!" shouted the wizard and he raised his staff.

It felt as if the old man himself had grown a few inches as he towered over them, chanting words into the storm to soothe the mountain's wrath and allow them passage, but it was futile. It felt as if each word uttered by Saruman made the storm denser and more furious.

This was the first time many of them got to see the power of not only one, but two, wizards first-hand, and it was frightening how much power they held. Disguised as polite old men, yet they were powerful enough to bring down a mountain if need be.

Saruman's voice seemed to strengthen another clash of lightning struck the mountain above them. Frodo looked up in terror as an avalanche fell down above them. His vision was shielded by Aragorn who covered the hobbit. Ivy felt Legolas gripping her arm against the mountainside, a silent promise between them to help one another.

 _'_ _If you fall, I'll help you back up again._ _'_

The fellowship held their breaths as the snow hit them. It felt like a punch and Ivy was promptly thrown on her knees as she buckled by the sheer weight and force of the snow. Legolas kept her from tumbling further over the cliffside. He was the first out of the snow and aided Ivy and Gandalf up.

Gimli suddenly sprouted out from the snow, spluttering and almost growling as he shook off snow and hale from his beard. Despite the direness of their predicament, Ivy had to admit that Gimli looked good with a white beard. Something to consider in the future.

The hobbits were coughing, choking on the snow as Aragorn and Boromir hauled them up, holding them against their bodies to keep the hobbits warm. Their little hands had grown red and Ivy doubted that they could go much further on their own, or even with aid.

Against all odds, even Bill was alive and well, but the mountain was no place for a pony!

"We must get off the mountain! Make for the Gap of Rohan and take the west road to my city!" Boromir shouted over the howling wind.

 _'_ _And take the ring to Gondor? What are you thinking?_ _'_

Yet Aragorn, Gandalf and Ivy had gone through this argument before.

"The Gap of Rohan takes us too close to Isengard!" retorted the ranger, and for the first time Ivy saw that he looked worried.

Aragorn was always a little stern and serious, but never worried. Focused was the word to describe him. Gimli sounded nearly exasperated as he grasped at the only option the fellowship had left, besides certain death on Caradhras.

"We cannot pass over the mountain, let us go under it. Let us go through the mines of Moria."

Gandalf didn't even scold the dwarf for bringing up this option again, instead a concerned look was upon the wizard's face as he grew harsh and stern. This matter was out of his hands.

"Let the ringbearer decide."

The decision weighed heavy upon Frodo. He saw his friends on their way to freezing to death, shivering against Boromir and Aragorn and the hobbit knew his own limits as well. They would never make it over the mountain pass, with or without Ivy to guide them.

"We will go through the mines."

Gandalf nodded, but he seemed grim. Ivy was the only one who sighed.

"Well what are we waiting for then? Time to climb down the same road that claimed several toes."

The sarcasm earned a chuckle from Gimli who seemed to have grown to high spirits. After all, he was going to see his cousin and kin again!

* * *

It took them several days to get down the mountain, but their march downhill went much easier and faster. Gandalf lead them through strange rocky paths that didn't look even remotely dwarfish, but the fellowship followed him nevertheless.

The air around them was dry and grey, but at least they had all warmed up again, somewhat. Ivy missed a fire, a burning, hot flame, but they couldn't risk being found and there wasn't much wood down at the foot of the mountain.

Ivy looked around, spotting Boromir. She fell next to Boromir who seemed to have alienated himself somewhat.

"How are you?" She asked, giving him a pointed look, clearly conveying that she wasn't inquiring about his current day.

The man grew stoic, avoiding her eyes.

"It's…alright."

His words didn't convince the ranger though, whose eyes pierced through this weak attempt of covering up his true thoughts.

"It's easier, once it's tucked away, isn't it?" She asked, her tone light and airy.

Ivy's aim wasn't to lecture him or mock his weakness. She merely wanted Boromir to know that she was there for him. The captain laughed humourlessly.

"Somewhat, but it still plagues my dreams."

To think that something as small and insignificant as a ring would be his downfall. That's not how Boromir envisioned this quest when his father sent him to Rivendell.

 _'_ _His father! Oh how proud he must be_.'

Ivy gripped his shoulder, whipping Boromir to face her, eyes burning with determination.

"Boromir you are stronger than this. You will fight like never before and I don't care if I have to drag you back from insanity, I am here. Where's the spirit and vehemence I saw in Rivendell? There is strength in you, I've seen it first-hand."

This man in front of her was a changed one, plagued and afraid of his own thoughts, but she didn't believe that Boromir was too far gone. He was not beyond salvation.

Her breath hitched.

"I consider you a friend, and I don't have many of them, so I refuse to let you succumb to madness!"

It proved difficult to keep her emotions out of her voice, but Boromir caught it anyway.

It's strange how peaceful his eyes grew, as if some stone was lifted from his heart. Ivy suspected that the man had begun ostracising himself from the company, but that is the sure way to a downward spiral. On his face was an earnest smile and a spark returned to his eyes.

"You have a brave and loyal heart, much more so than many of the men I know. Thank you."

Ivy smirked.

"Oh don't make me rant again. Come on, let's catch up with the others before we're stranded in the mountains."

They hastily followed the road onwards, and after a few more corners found that above them loomed a huge broken stone bridge. Just how did the masons carve those huge pillars was a mystery.

Right below that was a huge murky lake, but the water looked poisonous instead of inviting, littered with plenty of debris and strange plants that grew from the water. Gimli gasped in awe as his eyes were set upon a familiar sight, a piece of home.

"The walls of Moria!"

They were indeed, truly magnificent, demanding respect from anyone who set eyes upon them. The stone wall towered like a guardian, daring them to try and gain entry. The fellowship had to walk around the narrow path around the lake over the moss covered slimy rocks. The gods were being generous apparently as not even Pippin slipped.

"What are you doing?" asked Sam from the dwarf who was happily banging his axe against the wall with a jolly expression and listening carefully, looking for an echo he would never hear.

Gimli, always glad to share about the dwarves, happily answered,

"Dwarf doors are invisible when closed."

The hobbit seemed doubtful and took out his own sword to knock upon the stone wall.

"Yes Gimli! Their own masters cannot find them, if their secrets are forgotten." Gandalf's jab was almost jesting.

Legolas smiled to himself.

"Why doesn't that surprise me?"

The dwarf snorted, insulted by this.

"Provides more security than a few _plants_ around a stronghold!"

It happened to be Frodo that slipped, one of his feet hitting the water. He stumbled back, clearly disgusted by the feeling and looking around worriedly, as if he had stirred something in the water.

Ivy, while in awe of Moria, trusted her gut more than anything else and her instincts were telling her to leave this place. After battling and bantering about Moria with Gandalf for so long she finally understood his apprehensiveness.

She noticed that he had taken a particular interest in a flatter part of the stone wall, his hand grazing it as he was thinking out loud. Suddenly he turned around and as if by some force the clouds disappeared to reveal the moon.

Gandalf stepped away and suddenly bright outlines of a door shone back at them. They were surprisingly small and…Ivy chuckled.

"I don't know Gimli, this door seems pretty elvish to me."

"Nonsense!"

"It reads: The Doors of Durin, Lord of Moria, Speak Friend and Enter." Gandalf recited while pointing his staff to the strange runes above the door.

Ivy tilted her head, well that had to be the most unhelpful welcoming message of the third age.

"What do you suppose that means?" piped up Merry, the first who dare to admit his confusion.

"Oh it's quite simple," the wizard made it sound as if breaking an entry to a dwarven kingdom was an everyday matter to him "if you are a friend, you speak the password and the doors will open."

To illustrate his meaning, Gandalf turned around and raised the tip of his staff against the door and uttered something in elvish, his voice commanding and full of authority. Pippin grinned widely in anticipation, yet nothing happened.

The Nameless sighed and made her way to the cliffside, sinking down on the ground to let her aching feet rest a little. Just how did none of the others think of that was beyond her.

Gandalf tried another phrase, yet still nothing. Ivy took in a more comfortable position to take a little nap, it felt like they were going to be there for a while now. Gimli grunts while Legolas was, horribly, trying to conceal a smirk.

"Nothing's happening." Stated Pippin, looking up to Legolas with a questioning look.

The latter couldn't conceal his smile any longer, but luckily no retort or smack came from the dwarf. Gandalf walked up to the doors in a futile, almost comically exasperated attempt to push them open. He sighed, sounding defeated.

"I once knew every spell in all the tongues of elves, men and orcs…"

"What are you going to do then?" asked Pippin in his usual cheerful manner.

Ivy snorted, knowing without even looking that the poor hobbit just bought himself a good verbal whipping.

"Knock your head against these doors Peregrin Took! And if that does not shatter them and I'm allowed a little peace from foolish questions, I will try to find the opening words."

The wizard sat down on the rock and got out his pipe which was a sure sign that the fellowship was going to be there for quite a while. Gimli sat down, facing the doors as if his dwarven blood could pry them open.

Ivy heard Boromir sit down next to her, she recognized the sound of his shield being placed down.

"You can sleep, I'll wake you up if something happens." He said in a hushed voice.

Ivy nodded lazily, not even opening her eyes.

"Don't bother me unless there's a troll in plain sight."

The captain laughed.

"What about orcs?"

"I'll leave them to you."

Minutes passed and every now and then Gandalf tried a new combination of words, but to no avail.

With a heavy heart, Sam had to send away Bill, his companion on this road since Bree. It was the right call as old mines were treacherous terrain and dwarven cities weren't built for ponies.

Sleep was wiped from Ivy's eyes as she heard a splash in the water. The woman was upright in a second to witness Merry and Pippin throwing rocks in the lake. Much to her thanks, Aragorn stopped them, casting a concerned glance at the water, looking for any movement on the rippling surface.

Gandalf threw down his staff.

"Oh it's useless!"

Ivy sat up as her eyes caught movement in the water and her fingers instinctively curled around the hilt of her sword.

"Boromir, get up." She ordered, eyes stalking the water like a predator.

Ivy wanted him up and ready to defend himself because looking after the hobbits will be a handful on its own. Frodo suddenly jumped up, walking to the door.

"It's a riddle!"

The movement was becoming more precise now and Ivy pulled Merry and Pippin away from the water, pushing them behind her and unsheathing her sword.

"Well Frodo, how about you solve it now…As in, _right now_?!"

It seemed like he wasn't listening, but thinking.

"Speak friend…and enter. Gandalf! What's the elvish word for friend?"

The ripples on the water began moving towards the shore and Ivy felt trapped. There was nowhere to fall back to, only rock was behind them.

" _Mellon_."

A great crack echoed through the valley and the doors swing open to them. Gandalf chuckled heartily as Gimli removes his pipe from his mouth. Gandalf led the way through the doors into the dark dank cave, lightened only by the moon. The air was stifling and there was a very distinct smell that hit Ivy's nose as her stomach began to turn, but her mouth couldn't form any warnings. Run.

Gimli hadn't even noticed yet, marching right in.

"Soon, mister Elf, you will enjoy the fabled hospitality of the dwarves. Roaring fires! Malt beer! Red meat off the bone!"

He could have listed these things endlessly.

Yet there wasn't a sign of roaring fires in Moria's entrance. Gandalf got the same irk in the pit of his stomach and the wizard blew on the crystal that decorated the top of his staff as Gimli kept on praising his kin.

"This, my friend, is the home of my cousin Balin. And they call it a mine!"

The dwarf laughed heartily, but froze as his large boot felt something crunch and crush under his step. Gandalf's staff illuminated the staircase in front of them, and the countless of corpses and skeletons scattered everywhere, arrows sticking out of them. All dead, all rotten and gone for Valar knows how long.

Gimli ran to them, shouting in agony as he could not believe what he was witnessing. Legolas walked past him, brusquely pulling an arrow from one of the bodies and almost snarling in distaste as he threw the arrow to the ground.

"Goblins!" He warned them, as he grabbed and arrow.

Ivy heard Boromir and Aragorn draw their swords behind her.

"We should make for the gap of Rohan! We should never have come here," said Boromir as he slowly backed out of the mine.

Ivy didn't even wish to argue, to hell with Isengard, they will not walk into a goblin hole!

"You don't have to tell me twice…" She mumbled as her eyes were fixed on the shadows.

The wavering light was playing tricks with her vision.

"Get out of here! Get out!" Boromir's voice grew in volume as he attempted to draw Gimli's attention, but the dwarf was grieving.

The sound of splashes and Frodo's unmistakeable scream for help jostled the fellowship into action. The ringbearer was hauled out of the cave by a tentacle of some foul creature from the abyss of the lake.

"Strider!" cried out Sam before charging and slashing and the tentacle, freeing Frodo.

"Get off him!" shouted the hobbit while Merry and Pippin dragged their companion away from the water.

As touching as this display was, it only provoked the creature further. The guardian withdrew his injured leg, only to hurl another ten at them, knocking the hobbits over and grabbing Frodo again. It was as if the evil of the ring drew him specifically to Frodo, the watcher could sense it.

The creature dangled the hobbit above the water revealing a hideous gaping mouth with an impressive set of teeth and a foul breath. Ivy, Aragorn and Boromir ran to the water without hesitation, hacking and slashing through the slimy obstacle course while Legolas guarded their flanks, his arrows whizzing past their ears.

Elvish skill, or magic, whatever it was none of his arrows missed their mark.

It was Aragorn who reached Frodo, he slashed his sword through flesh and Frodo fell. Boromir was there to catch the hobbit and the trio began running back towards the mines, but the water was slowing them down as their feet got stuck in the roots and rocks that were on the bottom of this lake.

The tomb of the dwarves and now, possibly theirs.

"Into the mines!" shouted Gandalf, herding the fellowship back inside.

The vile creature kept on advancing, Ivy was slashing at the tentacles at random as they tried to get a hold of her limbs. Legolas managed to lodge an arrow in the creature's vulnerable spot. It's horrible moans were reverberating against the walls as this little trick bought Aragorn enough time to get out of the water.

Ivy was one of the last inside, dragging Legolas with her. They just kept on running further and further, tripping over the remains of the dwarves as the creature tore at the doorway, bringing it crashing down in a terrible racket, sealing the entrance, and their way out, behind them.

Ivy felt nauseous and trapped in this place. This was not the way to go. A traveller like her wasn't built to live under rock and stone, she desired to see the sky and the stars above her, not this endless darkness. They stood in pitch black, until Gandalf lit his staff once more, casting a little more light around the entrance.

"We now have but one choice, we must face the long dark of Moria."

His words were met with silence, praise of Moria's beauty had died from Gimli's lips as his fists tightened around his axe.

"There are older and fouler things in the deep places of the world than orcs. It's a four day journey to the other side."

This time Ivy had legitimate trouble keeping her tongue at bay. Four days in this pitch black, horrible place of death, but perhaps this was better than Caradhras.

"Quietly now, let us hope that our presence may go unnoticed."

The woman rolled her eyes, holding back the urge to stomp her feet like a little child as Gandalf led the way, the fellowship helplessly trailing behind him.

What could possibly go amiss, right?

* * *

 **What's this? I'm ignoring all of my responsibilities and wrote a new chapter?! And thanks to my wonderful beta, Oakenshield's Star I can share it with you asap.**

 **Actually I just ran out of steam from studying and typed this up at work. Next week will be jolly with 3 exams, 2 concerts and a new tattoo, but we'll manage and hopefully I can start writing the sixth chapter on Friday evening.**

 **Thank you all for the reviews, favourites and alert messages I've been getting! You dearies are the fire of my loins 3**


	6. Drums in the Deep

6\. Drums in the Deep

* * *

Moria was proving to be every bit as mentally scarring as Ivy had feared and suspected. Their trek was quiet and dangerous as the mine was ancient and hadn't felt the hands of dwarven masons for centuries.

It seems the dwarves were not really fond of rails, or anything to make the slim bridges any safer. It seemed as if every path took them over a bottomless abyss, and in many places bits and pieces of their road was missing.

The air inside the mountain was stuffy and smelled like death. They had been there for…she had lost count of time in the monotone darkness.

All the dwarves here were long dead and rotten, but the weight of their spirits still lingered in the halls of their forefathers, forgotten by the world, their bodies left there with no proper burial.

Gimli, who usually was the one to keep up the spirits of the company, had fallen silent. His heart was heavy and ached for his kinsmen, but there was still one faint hope left in him. Perhaps cousin Balin had managed to escape the mines before the goblins attacked? Even the elf had respectfully kept any jabs or qualms about the dwarves to himself.

While Legolas held little to no love towards dwarves, he knew loss. In Mirkwood he had witnessed a fair share of death throughout the years, mostly through blade, but only once because of a broken heart.

The only sliver of hope in this bottomless tomb was the crystal in Gandalf's staff – the light it emitted somehow made the darkness more bearable and Ivy found it easier to breathe in the dwarven kingdom whenever she focused on the light.

Despite their predicament, it was impossible to ignore the breath-taking accomplishments of dwarven architecture. It proved to be close to unfathomable to figure out just what craft did the dwarves use to create these bridges, how long they must have dug to carve their kingdom.

They followed Gandalf to an especially slim strip of road, on their right hung countless of ladders and unlit torches, tied to a ceiling so far up, their eyes couldn't reach it.

There Gandalf slowed his pace, examining the walls with curiosity, hands trailing light patterns in the stone, which looked as if lightning had managed to enter the cave walls and preserve its form. A shadow of recognition washed over his face and he turned to the company trailing behind him.

"The wealth of Moria is not in gold or jewels, but mithril."

The word was unknown and rolled strangely around Ivy's mouth, but the thought was soon forgotten as Gandalf risked a little more light to illuminate the vast mining complex.

The fellowship peered over the edge of the cliff as the entire space was filled with light. It seemed like the silver veins in the mountain reflected back whatever light hit them tenfold, shining brightly in their eyes. It was uncomfortable after spending such a long amount of time in the dark, but Ivy's lips curled into a smile as she promised never to forget this sight…and perhaps visit it again someday.

True enough, this wasn't sunlight, the light mithril emitted was a cold one, but it was better than the morbid obscurity of shadows. The sight of such wealth seemed to wipe some of the worry from Gimli's feature as he bristled with pride. They were jostled back to reality when Gandalf began striding onwards again.

"Bilbo had a shirt of mithril rings that Thorin gave him."

For whatever reason the wizard sounded almost amused at this. Ivy was a little too far away to ask, her instincts telling her to keep quiet. Even know she was fighting the urge to hush Gandalf the Grey. Gimli's ears pricked up at the mention of their uncrowned king.

"That was a kingly gift!" Exclaimed the dwarf, his eyes widening in surprise as he was one of the few in this company that could comprehend the value and significance of the mithril chainmail.

"Yes, I never told him, but its worth was greater than the value of the Shire!" The wizard chuckled at the thought of the old hobbit, imagining Bilbo's reaction if he happened to hear about this conversation.

Ivy noticed how Frodo seemed to shift uncomfortably in front of him, but she wrote it off as something trivial – perhaps the hobbit stepped on a pebble. It's about time they learned how to wear shoes!

They climbed up an especially steep set of stairs, stalactites towering above their head like icicles that looked just about ready to rain down upon them. The dwarves seemed to have an affiliation with natural beauty as well as their own culture.

While the staircase and the pillars around it were clearly dwarven, they had chosen to keep much of the original mountain intact and left its structure untouched.

Ivy scrunched her nose in mild disgust as they had to crawl up the stairs, which were not only covered in dirt and dust, but was conveniently littered with arrows, weapons and skeletons. She quickly straightened her features in an attempt to pretend that she was on a meadow.

She heard Pippin slip behind her. Ivy's hand instinctively reached for the hobbit, almost causing her to lose her balance. Luckily Merry was more stable in his attempts, quietly scolding the youngest hobbit for his continuous clumsiness.

Just as her calves were beginning to protest, the stairs ran out. The only one who didn't seem even the least bit winded from the climb was Legolas who seemed to glide through life and hardship, although even the elf seemed apprehensive in Moria.

The staircase seemed to lead to three identical doorways. No markings or runes indicated where those roads may lead. She walked up to Gandalf to see the wizard glance between the doorways in utter confusion, as if this place had just popped into existence just now.

Ivy tried to ignore her irritation, but if the wizard got them lost in this pit then she will just grab Frodo and walk the other way. The wizard finally voiced her fears.

"I have no memory of this place." He murmured, whispers bouncing off the walls.

Gandalf walked up the small set of stairs, sitting himself upon a stone facing the three doorways directly and fell into silence, leaving the fellowship to their own reigns. Ivy bit back a sigh before turning around to Aragorn.

"Do we have any wood? I'd die to see some natural light."

This was going to be a long wait, and the creeping cold would only sour their mood just as much as the dampness made their bread soggy. The ranger nodded and began collecting the necessary materials.

The hobbits plopped down on the ground, Merry groaning on joy and Pippin rubbing his sore and tired feet. Frodo sat down apprehensively, glancing around as if looking for something. The hobbit was pained by the ring - that much was available for the eye. All the more reason to destroy it for good.

Only Sam proved to be a dutiful hobbit, beginning to prepare a light supper of uncooked food for them. Gimli seemed to feel at home in these halls, even now. He spent his time marvelling the stonework of the dwarves, only to fall into a thoughtful silence. Legolas gripped his shoulder in comfort.

"Do not weep for the dead, Gimli. They fell in combat an in the halls of their ancestors." His heartfelt words seemed to ease the dwarf's mood, even if just a little.

"And what a battle it may have been. Durin himself would have been proud."

Just this little banter of words and Ivy could almost see a sliver of understanding between the two. Boromir was busying himself helping Sam load up the plates, passing them around the fellowship.

In just fifteen minutes they had a fire going and food in front of them. The only thing missing to turn this into a real camping trip was the stars. If perhaps there was some mithril above them in the stone…That could function.

Aragorn didn't seem to relax, even in the silent darkness that surrounded them, proving to be a cover as much as it suffocated them. His eyes were constantly scanning what was around them before checking up on the hobbits, then to Gandalf. This pattern kept on repeating endlessly.

Ivy sat wordlessly on a more comfortable slab of rock, although the word is used loosely in this context. She thanked Boromir with a smile when he handed her a plate of dried meat, bread and peanuts, gladly enjoying this light meal.

Time seemed to lose its meaning in Moria, it was impossible to say if it was night or day. Boromir sank down next to Ivy, his eyes focused on the dancing flames in the middle of their little encampment as he stretched out his stiff legs in front of him.

"Do you wish to sleep?" inquired the Nameless, casting a worried glance at her friend.

His eyes were clouded with fatigue and his look even more haggard than before. Or perhaps it could be blamed on the fact that none of them had had a decent wash in a week and now Boromir's fine clothes were stained with dirt and mud, accompanied by the smell of stale sweat.

The captain merely shook his head, chewing his food out of obligation rather than true hunger. The ring still weighed heavily upon his mind, forcing him to come up with ridiculous plans on how to best claim the ring for himself.

Ivy sighed.

"Sleep, just a little bit. You can't fight any battles while exhausted, especially battles of the soul."

Boromir's lips tightened into a thin line at her words. Her words weighed heavy upon his mind, but she had proven to be a friend during those last few weeks. He wasn't blind, Frodo was more apprehensive of him, just as Gandalf. They weren't suspicious or defensive, but they certainly had their guard up.

"You're determined to see this to the end?" He asked her suddenly.

Ivy glanced at him with a raised eyebrow.

"I can't, in my right mind, abandon Frodo to his fate. It would go against my honour code."

Friends or not, she was still part of the Nameless Ones. How could she still face the brotherhood after turning a blind eye on something this paramount?

Boromir nodded gravely.

" _If_ I…if I break my promise to Frodo…"

"You won't." Ivy shot back instantly, her icy eyes fixed on Boromir determinedly.

He shook his head, dismissing her resolve.

"If I do, promise me you will defend him at any cost…from me."

The woman bit back a smile.

"Of course. I consider you a friend, but my vows to the Nameless come first. You don't have to worry about me growing sentimental."

The cold strength of will seemed to calm Boromir, instead of causing him to worry further.

"If I may ask, what was that vow?"

She paused, her eyes weighing the man in front of him before settling upon sharing this knowledge with her… _friend_.

"I vow to better this world, correct the wrongs of men, at any cost. I vow to be no one, Nameless in the face of history, the watcher in the shadow."

The Gondorian captain absorbed these words, memorising them. He had no intention of ever echoing the vow to anyone else, but it felt significant for him if there was someone who remembered. A smile, the first one in days to cross his face, spread over his features.

"You will not remain nameless to me. I could have something planted to commemorate you."

Ivy snorted, almost choking on a piece of bread.

"Commemorate? I'm not dead yet. What would you do? Plant poison ivies?"

The mood lightened considerably and Boromir chuckled.

"I'm sure I can have something arranged."

"My compliments, you have unveiled the true motives behind me befriending you."

They shared a laugh, a little something for the spirit, before Ivy managed to convince Boromir to at least take a nap. It seemed like Gandalf was still deep in thought, clouds of smoke floating away from him in little puffs of smoke.

Ivy curled up next to the fire to have forty winks when it was certain that the Gondorian wasn't merely feigning unconsciousness. Years of travel had taught her that fatigue would often mean certain death. It took determination to ignore the impending danger and discomfort of her surroundings, but soon enough Ivy was dozing off.

The chatter of Merry and Pippin was her blanket while Aragorn's hushed elven song proved to be an amazing lullaby. It really did feel like forty winks before Merry jumped up:

"He's remembered!"

Whatever stupor they had fallen into was quickly broken as the fellowship clambered to their feet. Gandalf walked to the doorway on the left.

"No," exclaimed the wizard happily "but the air doesn't smell so foul down here. If in doubt, Meriadoc, always follow your nose."

Ivy's face was vacant as she tried to figure out if the wizard was losing his touch, or was this just a stroke of genius. They put out the fire and packed up the camp in less than a few minutes before following Gandalf down the stairway.

"Well, master elf," began Gimli "dwarven halls are quite magnificent in their greatness, don't you agree?" His voice was glib and proud, coaxing his companion to utter some well-deserved praise of dwarven craftsmanship.

Ivy bit back her smile; the temptation was too much for her.

"I don't know…I saw some pretty amazing stonework in Rivendell…"

The dwarf sputtered, tongue-tied at this reaction as smirks and laughter washed over the fellowship like a wave. They came down upon a set of stairs, exiting the long and winding passageway. So far Gandalf's nose hadn't led them astray.

"Let me risk a little more light."

He held up his staff and the crystal emitted more light, shining it towards the vast and seemingly infinite cavern in front of them.

"Behold the great realm and dwarf city of Dwarrowdelf."

His eyes shone in slight wonder.

Ivy completely forgot any control of her facial expressions as her jaw dropped. She could barely comprehend the greatness in front of her while Gimli got a hearty laugh from this display.

"You were saying something about Rivendell, lady Ivy?"

His words fell to deaf ears as the fellowship took in the ornamental columns, stretching into every direction as far as their eyes could discern.

Was the mountain even wide enough to conceal all of this?

"There's an eye-opener…" sighed Sam.

To imagine that just mere months ago he hadn't even set foot outside the Shire. His grandfather would most likely never believe if he retold this sight.

Walking through the cavern proved to be as endless as it seemed. It was like a forest with each pillar looking identical to the other. Was this perhaps a design mechanism by the dwarves to lead all spies and infiltrators astray? It certainly felt as if Moria would only allow a dwarf to pass through its halls unharmed.

Gimli suddenly gasped as something on the right caught his attention. He broke away from the fellowship, ignoring Gandalf's warning shouts. They had no choice but to follow into another tomb of dwarves.

In the middle of the room was a large white slab of stone, on which shone the first light of day that they had witnessed in days. The hall was in shambles, the stonework around it crumbling, yet the white stoned seemed untouched by time.

Ivy froze as realisation took over. It wasn't untouched by time, but recent.

"No…no." Gimli kept on repeating the words, unbelieving of what his eyes were witnessing.

This couldn't be true. Grief and mourning brought the stout dwarf on his knees as he bowed his head in sadness. Gandalf walked past the dwarf, as he was the only one in the company besides Gimli who knew how to read Khuzdul.

"Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria."

The wizard recited the words to the rest. Voicing them only seemed to agitate Gimli further. No one dared to disturb the dwarf in his morning. They knew that Balin was a cousin of Gimli, they had heard the countless of tales of the old dwarf who had been a magnificent warrior throughout his long and prosperous life. Gandalf removed his hat in respect.

"He is dead then, it's as I feared." His voice was pensive and the old wizard's eyes wandered around the room until something of interest caught his eyes.

A skeleton, propped against the tomb and still gripping an impressive book, as if it were a lifeline. Such dutifulness, even in death, was only something Ivy could imagine a dwarf may exhibit.

The wizard passed his hat and staff to Pippin and bent down to pick up the ancient tomb. It was rotten and ancient as dust and several pages fell out of it. Gandalf blew away the remaining dust and dirt, seemingly preparing himself for a nice leisurely afternoon with a mouldy book. Ivy subconsciously gripped the hilt of her sword.

"Gandalf, don't you think…Alright if you want to read the damned book could you do it once we're out of Moria and somewhere safe? I guarantee you it's going to be just as haggard in a day or two." Her voice was exasperated and the Nameless was fidgeting restlessly, her instincts apprehensive.

Gandalf seemed to be deaf to her warnings, but Legolas shared her sentiments.

"We must move on, it's unwise to linger." He said to Aragorn who listened to this warning.

Living with the elves had taught him not to ignore their warnings.

The wizard began reciting the pages, tracing the final stand of the last dwarves of Moria. This very room was the place they took their last stand, and this scribe had made it his mission to make sure it was recorded.

Drums. Drums in the deep.

Pippin backed away from Gandalf slowly. His words made the fellowship tense up as they unanimously began listening to the dreaded sound of drums, hollow and menacing.

"We cannot get out. They are coming."

Ivy almost shrieked.

"Enough already!" hissed the ranger "Just take the damn book and let's leave!"

Gandalf rose from the ground, holding out the book to Gimli.

"Take this to Dain Ironfoot; he needs to know what unfolded here, how Balin met his end."

The dwarf stowed the book away in his bag, managing only to utter a choked sound of gratitude to the wizard.

Ivy jumped, drawing her blade in the process, as a loud noise alerted them. Her eyes traced it to Pippin who had been fumbling with a skeleton, perched on the edge of a well.

Its head had fallen, tumbling down the abyss, clanging all the way. Gandalf turned around sharply, just in time to witness the rest of the skeleton plummet into the opening, trailing a nice long chain and a metal bucket with it.

It bounced down, the sound of metal and stone resonating through Moria. Ivy held her breath, wishing to be anywhere but here. If there were any foul creatures still left in Moria, then now they had a nice marker to know exactly where the intruders were.

They held their breaths, eyes darting around as if a goblin could manifest itself through a stone wall. Nothing is heard, for a while, prompting Aragorn and Boromir to release a sigh of relief, but Ivy remained sceptical.

"Fool of a Took!" Shouted the wizard, enraged at the accidental gimmick "Throw yourself in next time, and rid us of your stupidity!"

Pippin seemed to shrink a few inches under the wizard's rage, and at this point Ivy didn't even feel sorry for the poor hobbit. She had no plans of dying in this cave kingdom.

Gandalf turned away; ready to stride out the doorway.

"Finally!" Hissed Ivy, rolling her eyes.

Her heart dropped and the sound of the first beat. It rumbled through the depths, the drums sounded like the heartbeat of the mountain itself. Ivy closed her eyes, uttering a silent prayer to the Valar, as they were in dire need of their protection.

Sam, observant as always, noticed the faint glow of Frodo's sword.

"Frodo!" He shouted, prompting the rinbearer on unsheathe the sword to reveal it was growing bright blue.

As if to illustrate and translate the meaning to the rest of the fellowship, a screech echoed from outside.

"Orcs!" exclaimed Legolas.

Boromir ran past Ivy to the doors, the latter grabbed him by his chainmail and pulled the warrior back just as two arrows whizzed past his face and logged themselves into the ruins of the wooden door.

Aragorn gathered the hobbits.

"Get back, and keep close to Gandalf!" He shouted and threw back the torch he was holding just now.

The wizard shielded them, drawing his sword. Ivy was actually curious to see the wizard fight, how many years of experience might he have…

No, there was no Ivy any more.

She was no one, she had no name. The only thing she possessed at this very moment were her weapons and a task.

Keep the dark haired hobbit alive, and _survive_.

There was nothing else outside those two commands. No other sentiment existed. Her eyes snapped open and the woman leapt to action, grabbing various axes and swords from the ground, giving half of them to Aragorn.

An unsettling roar echoed through the halls when Boromir and Aragorn shut the doors.

"They have a cave troll!" Exclaimed Boromir, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Ivy completely ignored it, void of any feeling as she kept passing them weapons to bar the door and buy some time. Gimli jumped up the white tomb, his axe readied with a fierce bloodthirsty look in his eyes.

"Let them come! There's one dwarf yet in Moria who still draws breath!"

The warriors fell back, their weapons readied. Even the hobbits had their little daggers drawn, but their eyes were filled with fear, and not the good kind. That was the kind of fear that made men abandon their posts.

There was a horrible racket behind the door as the orcs were trying to break it down, well aware that the rotten wood was at its end. Their numbers must have been beyond count, but it mattered little.

Keep the dark haired hobbit alive, and _survive_.

Legolas and Aragorn both had an arrow already notched on their bows, ready to release a storm on the first orc who dares break the door.

Their vile swords managed to chip away a palm sized piece of wood from the door, and that was their first mistake, as a tiny slit was all the elf needed to send the arrow flying.

Ivy grinned in satisfaction as the orc shrieked; the arrow had found its target. Sadly one arrow wouldn't be enough as the fallen orc was quickly replaced, and just as swiftly it was slaughtered by Aragorn.

This little repetitive dance couldn't carry on for long and the doors flew from the hinges with a sickening crack, the orcs pouring into the vast tomb like ants descending upon a fruit.

And so the dance of death began.

Ivy completely disassociated her persona, her ego; the only thing that mattered was technique. This wasn't a game of precision, the orcs were so numerous that she merely had to jab and swing her sword around.

She swung her blade, severing limbs and splattering orc blood everywhere in glorious, swift movements. The woman had been trained in speed and dexterity and the orcs proved easy to trick. The vile creatures were straightforward and predictable in their movements, making it easy to cut through them.

The problems was that they were so numerous, flooding the room instantly. Ivy nearly lost sight of the fellowship, but she still heard them. Gimli's furious and raging roars, the hum of Legolas' bow, Boromir's shield clanking as he used it to flatten the face of an orc, Aragorn's elven battle cries…

It injected her with vigour and gave her courage. The smell of orc blood and adrenaline sent her into a frenzy.

Gandalf shouted, jumping into battle. This encouraged the four little hobbits who joined in. They were small, barely noticeable; they could inflict damage to the beasts that most likely didn't even regard them as a threat.

Ivy grinned as the hobbits proved that they weren't as defenceless as they seemed, but she fell back to keep close to Frodo, falling any orc that tried to escape the hobbit's defences.

It seemed like they might survive this, but only then did Ivy notice what one of the orcs was dragging in. Through the doorway broke a disfigured lumping troll, taking bits of stone with it, completely unaware of the damage around it.

Its roars drew the attention of the fellowship. Ivy noticed that an orc was trying to sneak up on Boromir, but thankfully Legolas was quicker than the Nameless and sent an arrow through its head.

The elf quickly switched his attention to the troll, lodging an arrow into its chest. This seemed to cause a bout of rage in the troll and it roared again, lumbering into the room with its sight set upon Sam.

 _'Oh don't you bloody DARE!'_

Its metallic club raised, ready to crush the hobbit like a bug. Sam roared, running towards the troll and slipping through its legs. It wasn't happy with its prey getting away and turned its back on the battle to pursue Sam, and that was a grave mistake.

Ivy descended on the beast like a shadow, flickering here and there and slicing its legs, but she couldn't muster the necessary force to cut through the tendons to render the beast immobile, but it was enough to stop the troll from crushing Sam under his foot.

Boromir and Aragorn had gotten hold of the chain around the troll's neck and were hauling it away. The troll stumbled backwards and Ivy jumped away, rolling on the ground to avoid being crushed as the beast lumbered across the hall, waving his metal club aimlessly.

Aragorn had the wits to release the chain, but Boromir had no such luck. Ivy witnessed the beast use the chain to haul Boromir against the stone wall like a rag doll where he fell into a slump on the ground, unmoving.

The captain sat up, much to their relief, but orcs were quickly upon him, seeing the man as an easy kill. For a second the Nameless disappeared and Ivy flickered through as she watched in horror as the scene unfolded, but her nature was quickly supressed.

Aragorn, without hesitation, threw his sword at the orc. It flew through the air and logged itself into the beast's neck, almost decapitating it.

Boromir quickly got up, ignoring the various pains and bruises in his body, shaking his head to regain some motor skills and balance, exchanging a look of gratitude with Aragorn.

But the troll was still not dealt with. Gimli roared like a mighty beast, throwing the massive axe into the troll's chest. The beast brought down the metal bludgeon on the white grave, shattering it into pieces and spoiling the final resting place of Balin.

It became a game of hide and seek as the troll waved aimlessly, hitting many orcs while Gimli scrambled away. Legolas sent two arrows flying into the creature, giving Gimli enough time to slip away.

But knowing the nature of a dwarf, he didn't merely just abandon the fight. Oh no, he used this as an excuse to decapitate an orc while casually turning his back on the troll.

Ivy wished that she could stop and admire Legolas' skill in close combat, but sadly she was busy enough keeping herself and everyone else alive. Her ego shone through the mask and another goal was added to the list.

 _'Keep an eye on Boromir, as he was the only one injured right now.'_

The elf was nimble and avoided the troll's chain agilely, using it as a gateway to stand on the troll's shoulders and shot two arrows through its head. The Nameless laughed as Sam whacked the orcs with his loyal pan, joining the hobbit in battle.

The smile disappeared as soon as she saw the troll aim its rage towards Frodo. Aragorn called his name, but the ranger's hands were full. It became a frantic fight for the fellowship to get to Frodo, to save the hobbit.

The troll released a furious roar as it had found its prey. It seemed to zap the strength out of Frodo who fell backwards. What could a tiny elven sword do against such a monstrosity? The troll grabbed him by the foot, dragging him from the stone corner.

Ivy tried to get to the hobbit with all her might, but the rushing was making her sloppy and one of the orcs managed to slice her arm. The cut stung like hell, but as revenge she took the orc's arms and head. Luckily, it wasn't her dominant hand, but Boromir joined her side nonetheless.

"Fool, get to Frodo! I'll manage!" the Nameless shouted to the Gondorian captain.

Frodo called Aragorn's name desperately, if only he could've seen the look on the ranger's face. This was one of the rare occasions when the ranger was truly panicked.

The hobbit sliced at the troll's hand, causing it to release him. The ranger jumped to Frodo's defence, drawing a large metal spear into the stomach of the troll. It roared in pain, it's cries of agony resonating through the hall as it dropped the club in pain.

Merry and Pippin helped however they could, throwing rocks at the troll's head. It raised its arms, helplessly trying to avoid the rain of stone, but the hobbits' aim was just too good.

It's arm shot out and slammed Aragorn against the stone wall, only the ranger did not recover as quickly as Boromir and he remained unconscious on the ground. Frodo ran over to Strider, shaking him profusely to wake him up, but to no avail.

The troll picked up the same spear used to pierce him and let it dig deep into the hobbit. Frodo's cries were enough to light the fury of the fellowship.

Merry and Pippin hauled themselves at the troll while Ivy drew her dagger, jumping up and driving it deep into the back of the troll. It whirled around, throwing all three from its back, sending them flying off to different ends of the room.

They only had the troll left to deal with. All of their force was focused on the disgusting beast and their rage as Frodo lay face down on the stone floor.

Finally Legolas found an opening and sent one of his arrows through the roof of the troll's mouth. It wavered and staggered around, before falling flat on its face, sending Pippin tumbling over its head.

Boromir pulled Ivy up from the ground, but the woman cared little for the assistance at that moment. How dare she survive while the ringbearer lay dead on the ground? Even her bleeding and throbbing arm didn't matter at that point nor the carnage and destruction around her.

Aragorn crawled over to the hobbit, he turned him around and to their surprise and joy, he was gasping for breath. Ivy nearly dropped her sword in relief, uncaring that this feat was inhuman.

Frodo sat up, gasping for air and holding his chest.

"I'm alright. I'm not hurt."

The ranger stared at the hobbit with wide eyes, disbelieving.

"You should be dead, that spear would have skewered a wild boar!"

Gandalf walked over, weary from the fighting but none the less wise.

"I think there's more to this hobbit than meets the eye."

Frodo unbuttoned his shirt to reveal a silver shirt under it. The tiny rings were so delicate that Ivy found that this shirt could be worn decoratively. It sort of shone like…

"Mithril!" exclaimed Gimli, who recognised the craft of his people "You are full of surprises Master Baggins!"

The dwarf smiled widely, amused by this turn of the events, but this joyous exchange was cut short as they were brought back to reality. Frodo had survived this, but they were still deep inside Moria and the enemy was well aware of their presence. This was merely a taste of what was still ahead.

Gandalf's eyes shot to the entry where the scrambling and shrieks of orcs could be heard. He turned to the fellowship, resolute.

"To the bridge of Khazad-dûm!"

They sprinted like never before with Gandalf leading the way. Ivy felt her heart beating against her ribcage as she exchanged a smile with Boromir.

 _'I'm glad you're alright.'_

She had been crass earlier, but in the midst of a battle there is more important things than pleasantries. The orcs howled, excited by this chase as they kept pouring in from every corner of the vast halls, emerging from the sides, holes in the ground and above from the ceiling.

It really felt like they were manifesting from the stone itself, their numbers beyond count. Ivy's head whipped around, losing all sense of direction. It felt like they had stirred a spider's nest.

But the orcs were impossible to outrun, there was just too many. The fellowship stood back to back, side by side with the hobbits hidden in the middle.

 _'So this is where I'll meet my end? I wish to see the sky.'_

Thousands of orcs were around them, spreading their stench and waving their weapons at them, fidgeting with anticipation. There was no way out of this situation.

Yet…

A low, menacing roar reverberated from the far end of the hall, causing the orcs to halt. A faint glow of orange gleamed from the grandiose doorway. Shrieks of panic spread amongst their ranks and to the fellowship's surprise, the orcs abandoned their hunt for them, scrambling away as deftly as they had appeared, slithering back into their underground holes.

Gimli laughed scornfully, while Ivy's eyes saw the glow grow brighter and it kept drawing closer to them. Like someone had lit a fire in the hallways. The fellowship turned their eyes to the direction, Gandalf's face betraying dread. Oh he knew exactly what that was…

Another low growl sounded, causing even Legolas' eyes to widen as he lowered his bow.

"What is this new devilment?" breathed Boromir, his eyes unwavering as if he was a huntsman.

Gandalf's eyes were filled with dread, postponing the revelation of his knowledge. He finally spoke as the red illuminated the path of columns in front of them.

"A balrog, a demon from the ancient world."

Legolas' eyes grew wide, the fellowship fell silent, unknowing what to do or how to react to this.

No amount of training could help Ivy quench her fear.

"But…They really exist? Even now?!" She exclaimed.

This didn't make any sense, she had heard about balrogs, but they were, as Gandalf said, demons from the ancient world. Why in the name of Valar, who were proving quite deaf to their cries of assistance, was one still in existence?

How were they supposed to battle this? Orcs, trolls, spawns of Sauron – Ivy could deal with any of them, but a balrog? Her mind flickered to Glorfindel, the ancient elf had battled one and survived. Oh how they could use him right now.

"This foe is beyond any of you, run!"

* * *

 **First of all, thank you all for the reviews, favourites and alerts! It's incredibly encouraging to see that people are enjoying the story so far and it keeps me motivated to keep on writing :)**

 **I think...I think 7 is the magic number where the fellowship will reach Lothlorien at last~ I've made some battleplans with my Beta, Oakenshield's Star, and things are going to get a lot more creative from here.**

 **I did one exam yesterday and it was...I think I passed. Luckily they allowed you to use any materials, meaning you could take your laptop with you to the exam and google the heck out of the tasks, which I did, and almost managed to solve (at least partially) 90% of them. Hopefully that was enough! And I got the tattoo! It's looking so amazing, my artist was absolutely wonderful and did an excellent job! I'm beyond happy and already scheming the next one.**

 **Hope you enjoyed this chapter as well! Until next time**

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	7. The Woods of Lothlórien

7\. The Woods of Lothlórien

* * *

Gandalf didn't have to order them twice. As one, they turned their backs to the growing ominous red glow and sprinted to the other direction, flying through the hall like an arrow. Ivy had lost all sense of direction in that environment, but Gandalf led them to yet another identical doorway and herded them inside.

Ivy and Boromir were running at the head of the column, in case they happened to run into orcs or something worse, the latter skidded down a set of stairs that abruptly ended, dropping his torch to the depths of Moria.

Legolas, thankfully, was swift enough to haul Boromir away from impending death while Ivy made the strangest pirouette trying to shift her body weight away from impending doom.

It sickened Ivy to the core as her imagination conjured up the sound of their skulls cracking on the stone formations down below. Once the Nameless had regained her balance, she physically barricaded the hobbits from running into one another and sending them all tumbling down like dominoes.

Her ears picked up the wizard's panting, who was leaning heavily against the wall, supporting himself with his staff. It was incredible how Gandalf had sporadic bursts of energy where it seemed as if his old age meant nothing, but the exertion these last few hours had demanded of him were beginning to wear him down and this knowledge was worrying.

For one they would have to outrun an army of orcs, but out of all of them, Gandalf was most likely the only one equipped to face the balrog. That beast was probably one of the very few things that would make her abandon a mission, for there's a difference between a sense of duty and blatantly ignoring when an opponent is way above one's level.

"Gandalf!" Aragorn rushed to the wizard, his tone low as his eyes scanned the wizard's face for some assurance and courage as he tried to support Gandalf.

Gandalf gripped Strider's shoulder tightly, his eyes blazing.

"Lead them on, Aragorn, the bridge is near."

Ivy's head whipped to the direction of Gandalf's gaze. His assessment of ' _near_ ' in this situation was a little skewed, but she couldn't care less. The exit of the mines was so close. Her skin prickled when another low roar reached her ears and that devilish glow just kept on gaining on them.

Aragorn seemed to be grounded; refusing to abandon the wizard and apprehensive about leadership, but Gandalf's patience wore thin as he hauled Aragorn away.

"Do as I say!"

Aragorn looked at the wizard in confusion; Gandalf's voice was like a whip, causing the fellowship to jolt back into action. Well, Ivy certainly wasn't going to wait around to be told twice. Gandalf strode past Aragorn like a storm, herding them like a shepherd.

This part of Moria was most likely the worst, with steep, narrow and broken stairs with no handrails or any sort of security net. The rule ' _don't look down'_ rang in Ivy's head as she sprinted down the stairs, praying that her feet would not fail now.

Days away from fresh air and sunlight were making her dizzy and nauseous, and only through sheer will did she manage to keep her balance. Or perhaps it was fear that affected her such?

The fellowship did not get far, because right there in front of them where there should have been a set of steps of ambiguous quality, there was a gaping emptiness. The prospect of jumping down a set of stairs, especially ones as perilous as the dwarven steps was nothing short of terrifying.

Legolas was the first to cross the gap as he of them all had the best chances of landing without any mistakes. Boromir ushered Ivy to be next, a look of worry crossing his face as he examined the woman.

She seemed more tired than before, her eyes a little clouded. The stone wall behind them was cracking as the mighty balrog was forcing itself through, its growls coming even louder as of now and zapping the strength from their flesh.

Ivy jumped, almost slipping over her own feet as she landed, but luckily Legolas was there to steady her. Gandalf was next, the old man collected his strength before making the leap. They all held their breath, but luckily Gandalf made it over safe and sound.

It was then that the orcs decided to slither out from their holes, occupying the stone ledges far and high away from them. Ivy's ears prickled as she heard the familiar hum of a bowstring and an arrow flew against the stairs, luckily not hitting anyone.

Aragorn and Legolas, as if out of instinct grabbed their bows and released a storm of arrows of their own. Keen elven eyes did not fail Legolas and his aim remained true. Ivy would've watched it in awe if there wasn't a balrog at their tails. She forced down the nausea and focused on those who were still on the other set of stairs.

Boromir grabbed Merry and Pippin, releasing a mighty shout as he jumped over the hole with the two hobbits in his arms. As he leapt, a large chunk of stone fell away, the very one they had been standing on before.

Catching the Gondorian man, with the added weight of two hobbits, was enough to knock the wind out of Ivy's lungs, but she was incredibly thankful for this small victory. Boromir nudged her to the lower steps, ignoring her protests.

"You look unwell!" He hissed at the woman, coming off harsher than he had intended to.

There was no time to explain that he was worried, that he would have liked her to rest a little, but the battle around them didn't stop. The balrog was only getting closer and the orcs were still raining arrows upon them.

So for now, Boromir shoved Merry and Pippin to Ivy and sent her down the stairs. It seemed as if the orcs were an endless and continuous flow, whenever Legolas fell one, another took its place instantaneously.

Aragorn tossed Sam to the other side. The gap had grown wide and the hobbits would never make the jump on their own. Boromir caught the hobbit in his arms, standing steady as a rock and sending Sam down to the other hobbits.

Strider turned to Gimli, already moving to haul the dwarf, but dwarven stubbornness just had to raise its head at that very moment. Gimli raised a gloved hand, standing as tall as his frame allowed.

"Nobody tosses a dwarf!"

He jumped, his roar enough to power him through the reckless feat, and almost made it. Ivy gasped in horror as Gimli's iron boots slipped on the rock and the dwarf fell backwards, but Legolas grabbed him from the first place entered his reach, which just had to happen to be Gimli's fine beard. If only this were another situation, Ivy would have been on the ground shaking with laughter.

This left only Aragorn and Frodo. As the ranger was about to throw their ringbearer with all the strength left in his muscles, another loud crack pierced their ears and the ranger knew that it came from under their feet.

He jumped higher, pulling Frodo with him as more steps crumbled from old age. The fellowship could only watch in silent horror as Aragorn's legs dangled over the abyss as he pulled himself upwards, struggling to get a proper grip.

Ivy noticed that Sam had ventured forward, his protective instincts overcoming his sense of danger. The Nameless' hand shot out, pulling the hobbit behind her.

"Don't move!" She ordered, shielding the hobbits with her own frame.

Something in the woman's eyes seemed to kill any resistance Sam would've showed and he remained rooted.

The gap had grown several feet, leaving an impossible distance between them. A leap of death in front of them and a balrog breathing at their necks – the quest wasn't looking all that peachy. Large chunks of old, cracked stone fell from the ceiling as the ancient demon was forcing itself through.

One of those crushed the stairs that were behind Frodo and Aragorn, leaving the pair stranded on the stone pillar. It cracked and rocked around, the ancient stone finally breaking down.

Frodo looked absolutely terrified for his life, and with very good reason. Aragorn fared a little better, although he was more concerned about the ringbearer than himself.

Tension was thick enough to cut with a knife as they waited. Aragorn got the brilliant idea to use their bodyweight to shift the direction of the pillar, and it seemed to be working.

He kept an iron grip on Frodo's cape and sure enough, physics didn't fail the ranger and they fell into the waiting arms of Legolas and Boromir. The exultation and adrenaline were almost enough to make the woman cheer for this victory.

The remnants of the stairs fell and crumbled behind Aragorn and Frodo, but the fellowship had long forgotten it as their aim was clear. The bridge was so close they could almost smell freedom.

Luckily the stairs were at an end and Gandalf led them through grand stone tunnels. They were a marvel on their own, but Ivy had no time to stop and admire. She just kept on running, blinking her eyes rapidly as the nausea and dizziness grew.

Her eyes caught sight of flames on their right, this sight puzzling her. How could stone burn like that? It looked like a wall of fire, definitely not a natural phenomenon. Gandalf ordered them over the bridge, Boromir sprinting at the front of the fellowship.

Ivy nearly turned around to face the balrog instead when she saw what the bridge, and that's a generous overstatement, really was. A narrow, one-man walkway – no doubt a measure for security. No force could sneak up in Moria through this entrance for their army could only cross into Moria one-by-one.

She only relaxed when everyone had safely crossed the bridge. Speed had been on their side, as well as luck. Against all odds they had made it, despite being swarmed with orcs, yet one had still yet to cross the bridge.

Gandalf had turned their back on them, standing tall to face the shadow and flame. The balrog had finally arrived, manifesting from the dark. It was nearly as tall as the ceiling with flaming wings and loins and a set of devilish horns on its head. It looked as if its body was made of glowing embers, eyes shining bright in its black face.

The demon roared at the wizard, revealing that his insides were made of scorching flames.

For the first time Ivy felt truly afraid. She wanted to help Gandalf, aid the wizard however possible. Never before had she felt so useless, standing there in the dark while Gandalf the Grey stared down this ancient demon that was possibly as old as Middle Earth itself. The balrog in all its might was a sight to witness, despite its maliciousness there was a glorious beast in front of them.

Gandalf ran just half-way across the bridge, the balrog following in his tails, before the wizard stopped and turned to face the balrog of Moria. Frodo seemed unable to move, terror raining over his features as realisation dawned to him that Gandalf was going to fight this demon.

He cried out to Gandalf, but the wizard made no notice of his shouts. There was no outrunning this and the wizard could not leave this danger unchallenged and free to roam Middle Earth. Not when there were so few of them left in the world that had the power and knowledge to face such a demon.

"You cannot pass!" Declared the wizard, his voice carrying the authority of a god.

The balrog straightened to its full height, a sword of flames manifesting in its claws. Gandalf had surrounded himself with bright light that served as protection.

With a blood-curdling roar the balrog brought down its sword in full force, but Gandalf's magic withstood this blow and the sword burst into oblivion. The fellowship had abandoned all thought of reaching daylight, standing still, impotent in this epic battle.

The balrog dared to take a step forward, waving around a whip of flames, but this demonstration of force only fuelled Gandalf's ire and the wizard brought down his staff.

A terrible crack resonated in the stone halls, yet nothing happened. The demon felt compelled to take a step forward, ready to teach this old man in front of him a lesson, but as soon as his weight rested upon the bridge, it crumbled.

Gandalf had decided to bring down half of the bridge with him, watching quietly as the balrog fell into the darkness. Only its body and whip still emitted a strong glow. Ivy exchanged a look of shock with Boromir, had the wizard truly won?

Their awe was cut short, for as soon as Gandalf turned around the balrog lashed out one last time, its flaming whip wrapping around Gandalf's ankle, dragging the old man down. They witnessed as his sword and staff fell in the darkness and Gandalf was left dangling, his old bones barely gripping what was left of the bridge.

Frodo was the first one to break, making an attempt to run to Gandalf. The thought of letting Gandalf die like this was unbearable, but Frodo was far too valuable for the quest.

Boromir caught the hobbit, holding him in a firm, iron grip as Frodo kicked and struggled against the man. He kept screaming Gandalf's name, the raw emotion in his voice sending shivers down Ivy's spine.

The wizard struggled some more, before looking at the fellowship one last time. Ivy knew what was going to happen even before Gandalf let go, but her brain ceased processing the information that it was receiving.

Gandalf was going to let go. He was going to fall into the depths of Moria, and Frodo will forever blame himself for this. After all, it was his decision to take the route through Moria, even if there was no other choice.

It seemed too unreal, completely impossible to carry on this quest without Gandalf. His eyes were piercing, full of unspoken words that he tried to convey with just one look.

"Fly, you fools!"

His last words cut through the darkness of Moria like a dagger and suddenly he was gone. Gandalf fell into the dark and it suddenly dawned to Ivy that she will never see this wizard again. Gandalf the Grey, a man who had faced a balrog, the strongest of their company was no more.

Boromir was the first to move, hauling Frodo away kicking and screaming, shouting at Aragorn. Legolas and Gimli had taken it upon themselves to get the hobbits out to safety, Ivy trailing close behind them.

The ranger had all but turned into stone, staring at the remnants of the bridge incomprehensibly. The sudden hail of arrows was enough to ground him back to reality and the ranger turned around and ran.

He ran, up the stairs and through the grand entrance of Moria.

The fresh air felt like he had been shoved face first into a bucket of ice water. Their eyes hurt from the light and lungs had to adjust to this change of scenery, but that was the least of their worries.

The beautiful mountain ranges wasn't enough to soothe their hurt. They only made it scant hundred feet out of Moria before the hobbits crumpled to the ground in grief, unable to move forward.

Ivy followed suit, but not so much because of sadness but she felt physically ill, and hollow. Gandalf's departure had left a hole inside of her, as dark as the depths of Moria.

Through her half-closed eyes she saw Boromir holding Gimli who was making every effort to lunge back into Moria. Dwarven loyalty…he couldn't bear the thought of abandoning a comrade and escaping to safety.

Pippin was crying helplessly, Merry trying to comfort the hobbit through his own pain and sadness. Legolas on the other hand seemed completely taken aback by this feeling, grief wasn't something that he was accustomed to feeling.

The elf didn't know even how to react, his eyes frantically searching for something to focus on. Aragorn wiped his sword before turning to the elf.

"Legolas, get them up."

His words cut through them like a knife through butter, unforgiving and determined, but at least the elf reacted. It seemed as if the prince was moving on autopilot, his movements mechanical as the elf headed to Merry and Pippin who happened to be closest to him, muttering words of comfort in elven to soothe their pain.

Boromir cast a look around the fellowship, not failing to notice Ivy's condition and pale skin.

"Give them a moment for pity's sake! Can't you see that one of our own is ill? That the rest are brought down by grief?"

The Nameless felt her pride prickle at that comment. She stood up, trying to ignore the wave of nausea that washed over her.

"No, Aragorn is right. By nightfall this place will be overrun, we must put some distance between us."

Together with Aragorn they pulled up the hobbits and Gimli from the ground, herding them away and towards the woods of Lothlórien. Frodo seemed to have disassociated with the world entirely, the only expression of his loss was a single tear, nothing more and the sight was completely heart breaking.

Purpose, that's what Ivy needed at this moment. Her grief was fresh and something was seriously wrong with her, an iron goal was exactly what she needed right now to keep herself upright.

 _'Reach the woods of Lothlórien. You have permission to crumble once you've arrived.'_

The company spoke fairly little during the day, there was nothing left to say. Ivy's eyes darted to the cut on her left shoulder – it was discoloured. The blade must have been poisoned, she realised, but some how this didn't install fear into her. The woman's survival instincts had been completely numbed.

She just had to keep on running, had to survive until Lothlórien and had to keep the wound hidden for the rest of the day, otherwise Boromir would never let them press on.

And so time became a concept and movement became reality for them. They were all weary from the battle, starving, thirsty and heartbroken. What morale they had in Moria had completely vanished.

It took them a few hours to exit the mountains. They crossed a few stony rivers before Aragorn stopped for a moment to admire the vast forest that lay ahead of them with the first smile in days.

He hadn't been to Lorien for far longer than the ranger dared to admit and he wasn't sure what sort of welcome they might get, but Aragorn trusted the elves. They will help them. They had to.

Ivy felt as if she was running through a fog. The trees just kept on coming closer and she felt that salvation was in reach. She had been through the woods of Lorien before, but never entered them with the hopes of asylum.

Unlike Mirkwood, the air wasn't suffocating. Quite the contrary, the woods of Lothlórien seemed to glitter with a golden hue as light danced in beautiful colours, as if trying to console their hurt. The forest was so alive and buzzing. It seemed like it was teeming with small animals and birds.

Only now that they were shielded by the power of Lorien did Aragorn see fit to slow down. Ivy was thankful for this change of pace, her hand gripping a nearby tree for support, her breathing heavy. Legolas offered her assistance, but she waved his hand away with a small smile.

"I'm fine, just a little weary." She tried to assure the elf, but her words failed to assure him.

Boromir was by her side, but Ivy remained firm.

"Could we stop fussing about me and keep on going? We might be in the right forest, but we're still nowhere near shelter!"

Her irritation was enough to keep the fellowship from stopping, but it didn't stop Boromir from flanking the Nameless or Gimli from covering her from the front, ready to turn around and catch the woman if she were to fall.

This display of protectiveness was enough to blow some life into Ivy who smiled at the sight. Though the Gondorian seemed terribly tense and it was starting to make Ivy nervous as well. She finally cast a look over her shoulder.

"Whatever you're afraid of, stop it!" hissed the woman.

Boromir looked at her, almost rolling his eyes.

"Very mature of you, really. My people have heard tales of these parts…And none of them were good."

Ivy turned her gaze ahead again, scared that she might grow dizzy and tumble over some tree root.

"Will it ease your worry to know that I've passed through these woods before?"

This seemed to surprise the man.

"What happened?" demanded Boromir, his mind conjuring up one horror after another.

The Nameless smiled warmly at the memories.

"Absolutely nothing, if anything I felt at peace."

And this was enough to calm Boromir down, if just a little. Would he believe rumours, or the words of a friend who had treaded these paths before? She didn't seem bewitched or scarred, perhaps the rumours of Lothlórien were started by the elves themselves to keep nosy humans out?

They wandered through the woods for quite some time, Aragorn seemed to know where they were headed, but he made no mention of his plans to anyone else. Despite the seemingly aimless walking, the fellowship seemed to feel lighter, as if their worries were soothed with a healing balm.

Well, not all were lulled into this sense of comfort.

Gimli ushered the hobbits to his side.

"Keep close, they say a great sorceress lives in these woods. An elf witch of terrible power."

The dwarf's voice was a mere whisper while his eyes darted around suspiciously, his grip firm around his axe. Ivy wanted to roll her eyes at this distrust. An _'elf witch_ ' who governed a forest where it rained golden leaves could hardly be considered malicious.

If Legolas was irritated by those comments, he chose to keep it hidden well for the elf seemed to be focused on the forest itself. In truth he was drawing life force and warmth from the forest to heal his own hurt, to make his spirit better.

"All who look upon her, fall under her spell." Gimli continued on.

Ivy had to bite back another comment that this sounded more like Sauron or something of similar power, once again, not an elf woman who lived with squirrels and other sweet animals while gliding through the years.

Ivy noticed that Frodo jumped, looking around as if he had heard a voice. It was Sam, dearest Sam, who brought him back to reality.

"Well, here is one dwarf she won't ensnare so easily. I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox."

Gimli had barely finished the sentence when suddenly he found several arrows pointed right at his face. Ivy and Aragorn both jumped, taken aback at the elves' silent approach.

Boromir whipped around just to discover that they were surrounded with arrows trained on them from every angle. These elves were fair of hair and dressed in greens to blend in with the forest itself.

"The dwarf breathes so loud, we could have shot him in the dark."

Ivy raised her eyes at the sound of this elf's voice. When elves had the tendency to make her apprehensive, then this one felt simply arrogant. He seemed to be the leader of this small group, with long blonde braids and breath-taking features, a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

Perhaps it was the poison, or the nausea, or the grief, or the frustration about how horrible the last few days had been but for some reason this elf's jab set off Ivy's irritation and common sense abandoned her, despite having numerous arrows trained on her.

The woman couldn't reason with herself fast enough to think clearly before lashing out. What difference would it make, the poison might kill her anyway. She refused to let some smug elf lord mock Gimli like that and the words just slipped out.

"An elf so pompous he can barely fit in the room, is that why they chucked you out to the borders?"

A tense silence fell amongst them at her sharp insult. Ivy heard Gimli snort at the comment, trying to hide his grin behind the beard. The elf had his gaze fixated on the foreign human woman, not having noticed her before.

Clearly her comment had pushed his buttons, much to her delight and she gladly stared him down. Well, now was a little too late to admit that this was a stupid decision.

They were in need of shelter and provisions and she just had to irritate an elf with about twenty arrows aimed at them? When another wave of nausea hit her, she suddenly broke eye contact with the elf, turning around to Boromir.

"Hey, just so you know, the cut on my hand is poisoned."

Ivy said this nonchalantly, but already her vision was failing and she felt that her mind was slipping into darkness and frankly, she welcomed unconsciousness with open arms. The Nameless knew her limits and her body was done for the day. She did promise herself that it's alright to break down once they reach Lothlórien.

Aragorn can smooth out the mess with the smug elf. And with that the Nameless One swayed once to the left, once to the right and then tumbled over, landing on a bed of fallen leaves with a muted thud.

* * *

 **Bless me father for we have reached Lorien at last, there's a little something to ease the blue Monday. Next chapter is going to be a nice slice of plot with a side of our favourite marchwarden.**

 **Originally the sixth chapter was supposed to end here, but I cut it in two when I realized that it might drag on to a 10 000 word chapter, hence the strange slicing.**

 **As always, thank you all for reading and sending me your love via reviews, favourites and alerts! Hopefully you enjoyed this chapter as well~**

 **cm**


	8. The White Wizard Returns

8\. The White Wizard Returns

* * *

Regaining consciousness was one of the strangest and most unsettling experiences. The first thing that Ivy sensed was that all her limbs were still intact, she was warm and definitely in a bed and stashed in some gloriously impractical elven gown once again. Then her ears picked up a distant hum of singing, a distinctly elven tune. No humans could ever emulate the clear and magical voices of elves.

Although she couldn't make out, or even understand, the words, the songs intent was clear – complete and overflowing joy. As if by magic she felt pulled in their hearts and their positivity flooded her senses.

And that's exactly why elves still made her hesitate, even after travelling with the prince of Mirkwood. How could one truly trust a being who could manipulate with your emotions with their presence alone?

The feelings caused by the hymn evaporated and Ivy returned to her senses. Her eyes shot open and instead of a ceiling she came face to face with an intrinsic entwinement of tree branches that formed a solid roof. Strange light seeped in from between the openings, leaving the impression of a night sky.

Whatever the elves had given her had stopped the poison and nurtured her back to health. Her only issue was stiffness from lying still for such a long time.

"Good evening, I'm pleased to see you're awake, I was hoping that you regained consciousness while I'm still present."

Ivy's eyes never left the ceiling, but her stomach tightened as anxiety was taking over her senses. The woman solidified her heart before finding enough strength to answer,

"Is this the afterlife? I wouldn't imagine meeting you anywhere else, Gandalf."

If this was the afterlife then it was completely different from her expectations. She had always imagined it to be quiet, dark and peaceful, but this place was illuminated with strange glowing lights.

She looked to her right, and there he was. Although Gandalf's appearance had altered significantly, gone were the worn grey robes and nest of entangled hair – the Gandalf that she witnessed now looked close to angelic. His hair was white as the purest snow and he was wearing grand white robes. The similarities he bore with Saruman were uncanny.

Her question drew a chuckle from the old wizard who sat forward in his chair that had been planted next to her sickbed. The room was quite bland, besides the chair and the bed, there was only one small table in this room. A set of fresh clothes and a pair of shoes were neatly piled on there. It was no guest room, but a place of rest and healing.

"I'm glad to tell you that you're still very much alive, as am I." said the wizard with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

Ivy bit her lip when the memories from Moria flashed in her mind, the fresh wound being torn open by the images and soothed by Gandalf's presence simultaneously.

She sat up in the bed, leaning against the wall and looked back at Gandalf rather blankly as her mind was trying to comprehend, to make sense of what Gandalf demanded to be true. They were both alive and breathing at this very moment, most probably in Lothlórien.

"The white wizard returns, but how, Gandalf? I was there, I saw darkness devour you."

Was he truly alive? Is this why the elves were singing? Were they this joyous about his return that they broke out into song? Questions just kept forming in Ivy's head to the point where she felt like it may burst. The wizard watched her with patient sympathy, well aware that it was a lot to take in.

"I did fall, through fire and water. From the depths of Moria to the highest peak I battled the balrog, until I was victorious, but I paid with my spirit and departed these lands."

Ivy's mouth twitched into a smile as she imagined just how glorious that battle must have been, worthy of song had there been anyone to witness. Well, judging by the elves they were already on it. The latter part was confusing to her, to say the very least.

"You mean you…died?" She asked apprehensively, the last word rolling around her mouth.

Gandalf seemed to ponder before answering.

"If the concept is easier to grasp then yes, let's say it was so. I departed, but was swiftly returned to Middle Earth because my task has not been completed, nor yours."

The Nameless' hands felt limp, like noodles, dangling uselessly from her body as she felt her heart rate accelerate.

"You just," she released a shaky laugh "I am speechless, and still disbelieving. I fear to rejoice in case this is some trick of my dying mind."

Gandalf's presence gave her courage and reinvigorated her into action.

"Gandalf, I am so glad that you're back."

And she meant it, sincerely. This sounded too good, too implausible to be true, but Ivy had always trusted her senses above all and she decided to trust them now. The facts were laid out in her mind – Gandalf was alive and so was she and there were both in Lothlórien. Also were this the afterlife, then Gandalf would most likely stop speaking in riddles.

The wizard smiled.

"As am I, but I cannot stay for long. I must depart in the morn and so should you, but I suggest we discuss this over dinner with the Lady of Lórien. I have a feeling that she knew you'd awake tonight."

Things were put into motion once more and Ivy felt the tension of time, the most valuable asset they had. There was no time to enjoy the wonders of Lothlórien, much to her sadness for there was no guarantee that she'll ever visit these halls again.

The woman kicked threw off the covers and rose from bed, smiling sheepishly at Gandalf.

"Do you mind waiting outside while I change? I'll only be a moment."

He rose quickly, excusing himself and closing the door softly behind him, leaving Ivy to a moment of solitude. The woman stretched her stiff limbs in an attempt to regain some control over her body.

She gladly rid herself of the white nightgown with its long flowing sleeves and skirt that got tangled around her legs. Just another way for the elves to subtly rub in the differences of the two races. Ivy could hardly imagine any elf looking ungraceful, ever. The day Legolas gets whacked in the face by a tree branch is worth living for.

The cut on her arm was neatly bandaged and sore to the touch, but it wasn't emitting copious amounts of heat or any fluids so there was one small victory. She couldn't wait to see the fellowship again, although Ivy was apprehensive about Boromir. Sure enough there was a proper tongue lashing in store for her by the captain.

The dress, as Ivy noticed with some reluctance, was a simple one made of dark green fabric, leaving her neck and forearms bare, openly displaying the brotherhood's necklace. The woman was silently thankful that no one had removed this from her person for this was most likely her most important relic.

It was one of her earliest memories, how her mentor had found her in the woods and bestowed this symbol of belonging to her.

 _'From hereby you'll be a Nameless One, and so you shall be until you cast this from your neck.'_

She remembered it vividly. It was night and it was pouring, she was just a lost kid, cold and hungry, in the downfall, who happened to stumble upon her future mentor. Ivy had no memories of who she was or where she came from, but for some reason she trusted this stranger almost instinctually as the other choice was starvation and death, and her trust hadn't been misplaced for the man proved to be both loyal and caring.

She shook her head to clear the memories. There were more important things to focus on in the present, lingering on the past rarely brought anyone solace or solutions. Gandalf had been waiting long enough and she finally left the room.

As Ivy exited she audibly gasped at the sight that unfolded before her. They were at the high branches of an incredibly powerful and ancient tree, there seemed to be hundreds of those around her.

Winding staircases were built into the wood itself and slim walkways connected the various routes and houses to one another as the branches extended far and wide, entwining with one another.

This was nothing like Rivendell. The elves here seemed so close and in touch with nature that it almost made her envious. She breathed in a lungful of fresh air, mixed with an earthy scent before releasing it with a smile.

The singing sounded louder now, the volume of each voice dwindling or growing in random intervals. The elves were still busy and moving around, almost hovering over the bridges and stairs with laughter in their faces and the foreign song flowing from their lips as easy as breathing.

Gandalf allowed Ivy a moment to take in this sight before leading her over one of the nearby pathways ushering the gaping woman along. They spoke very little as usually, Ivy reserving her questions until their meal.

He only familiarised Ivy with the names of their hosts, Lady Galadriel and her husband Celeborn. Instead she spent this short moment of tranquillity to take a breath and enjoy her surroundings, absorbing every little detail like a sponge.

She tried to keep track of their route, but the alternating staircases and walkways quickly disoriented her in this foreign environment and Ivy had no other choice but to trust the white wizard. A peculiar thought for Gandalf had always been grey, but despite the change he still felt so _familiar_.

Gandalf led them down a winding staircase, going all the way down to the ground. It was a small patch of green, where a miniature waterfall trickled into a pond. In the middle was a well-lit white table that had already been set for five. On closer inspection Ivy noticed that the light wasn't coming from any flame, but crystals.

Two of the chairs set out on the forest floor were grand with elven writings carved into them along with patterns that looked like the trees surrounding them, and already occupied.

Ivy faced the elf male sitting in one of the places of honour, but the Lady remained hidden from her. Celeborn smiled at them, a rare occurrence, welcoming both of them.

It was Gandalf who guided her to the table, inclining with his head where to sit. It felt strange to her that only five chairs were set, was Aragorn the only one from the fellowship who was invited here? How come others were stripped of this honour?

Before taking a place at the Lady's table, Ivy felt it only right to thank her hosts for their hospitality. She turned to her, but words died in her mouth when her eyes fell upon the elf before her. Indeed elves were beautiful, but this was the first time that the appearance of one of their kind rendered her speechless.

The Lady's hair glittered like gold and silver under the pale crystal light with a delicate elven crown placed on top, dressed in white as pure as starlight and a knowing smile in the ageless features that had faced thousands of years.

Just being in this elf's presence made her shrink in respect. Even while seated the Nameless could tell that Lady Galadriel was incredibly tall for a woman of any race, which only commanded more respect. After a moment of stumbling over her words did Ivy manage to bow deeply.

"Thank you both for your hospitality and for saving me from certain death. I will not forget this and should you ever need my favour, just send word."

What could those powerful high elves ever need from her remained a mystery, but Ivy was determined in her ways. They had saved her life and she never forgot favours as such. She took a seat next to Gandalf, resting her hands in her lap. Lady Galadriel smiled at her words, exchanging a quick look with her husband.

"Worry not about debts and take this moment to gather your strength, for you will need it in the coming days."

Ivy cast a delicate look towards Celeborn, curious of the elf. What thoughts were hidden behind those features that won Galadriel's eternal love? She briefly found herself wondering about their younger days when they were free from rule and available to travel around the world. What sort of elves had they been?

She finally found the courage to voice the question that had been tormenting her all this time.

"Where are my travel companions? I couldn't imagine Frodo parting with Gandalf again after such a feat!"

It was Celeborn who took it upon himself to announce the news to the Nameless.

"They departed a week ago, armed with my wisdom and gifts from the Lady, even before Gandalf was delivered here for nurturing."

The revelation felt like a punch in the stomach. How could they dine while Frodo was out there? Did Gandalf have no intentions of following him? She felt disappointed in herself.

How dare she proclaim herself one of the Nameless and leave the fate of the world unchecked. Though no oath tied Ivy to the fellowship she felt compelled to see the quest to the end.

No, compelled was too negative for this situation. She would gladly and honourably give her all to destroy the ring.

"Oh…" was all the woman could force out of her mouth.

Gandalf had been right, she had no time to spare if she wanted to catch up with the fellowship. Galadriel, perceptive as always drowned her negativity with just a simple warm glance.

"Do not despair, young one, for your part in the quest is not over. You're temporarily set on a different course, but you will meet again and your actions henceforth will determine the future events."

 _'And I thought Gandalf was cryptic in his manner of words…'_

"It was unclear when you'll regain your strength so the fellowship departed without you, but it might be for the best. Know that they did not make this decision lightly." consoled Celeborn, using facts to ease her worry.

He was an elf who relied on wisdom to guide his decision and found that this woman had to be reasoned with.

Ivy nodded, aware that she should've foreseen this course of events. Since Moria she had been focused on getting to Lothlórien, but had completely overlooked the time necessary for healing. A foolish miscalculation that she had no plans of repeating again.

"Haldir seems to be late." announced Gandalf with amusement.

Clearly he found something funny about this, but the joke eluded Ivy who merely glanced between the trio. Luckily, they didn't have to wait long for the final guest to arrive.

"I apologise for my tardiness, Orophin nearly succeeded in maiming himself in an attempt to perform some silly feat."

Ivy tensed all over, scared to look at the stairway for she recognised that voice and frankly, she didn't want to meet those eyes again. Her discomfort seemed to go unnoticed by the other inhabitants of the table. It was Celeborn who seemed to sink back in his chair with an exasperated sigh.

"Again? Did he learn nothing from last time?"

The marchwarden cracked a dry smile.

"Evidently not, I might just turn a blind eye next time in hopes that it'll teach him a proper lesson."

Galadriel's chair successfully hid Ivy from his gaze, but Haldir's eyes widened just a little when he saw the woman seated at the table. Oh yes, the rude, enigmatic female traveller who succeeded in making a fool out of them both simultaneously. Luckily, no one in the Galadhrim spoke the Common Tongue well enough to understand her words, but body language was enough.

Female elves taking up arms was quite common, but from his travels Haldir had concluded that the same standard didn't uphold in human cultures, so despite his mild dislike towards the woman he found himself curious.

Ivy's reaction was much more guarded, to the point that she sat unmoving as Haldir took the seat across from her. He was just as handsome and graceful as she vaguely recalled, even his braids were the same as the other day.

"Let us dine now," announced Galadriel now that they were all present "Ivy I'm positive you have plenty of unanswered questions."

Dishes were being passed around, mainly fresh produce, cheese, bread and fruit, but no meat, much to Ivy's regret. There were some delicious looking berry tarts just by her left hand though…She tried to avoid acknowledging the marchwarden and his relentless scrutiny, but one he had gathered the necessary visual information he diverted his attention elsewhere.

She took a little bit of everything, only now becoming aware of how hungry she truly was, enjoying this change of pace to the food they had on the road. While they dined, Gandalf, Galadriel and Celeborn engaged in, what could only be called, small-talk while Ivy and Haldir gave it their best to listen and ignore one another.

Haldir exchanged words with Celeborn, but doing so in his native tongue. Ivy had to force down another verbal onslaught that demanded to be unleashed to the unsuspecting marchwarden. Ivy knew, just as everyone else present, that she was the only one who couldn't understand the foreign language.

"Why is he here?" asked Ivy no one in particular, her question pointing towards Haldir.

The elf in question stopped mid-sentence to throw an inflamed glance at the human. Despite the seemingly impolite implications of her question, Ivy did find herself genuinely curious. To her knowledge he was a border guard, so what business did he have at the Lord and Lady's table?

Galadriel seemed amused by her bluntness rather than insulted and gladly answered.

"Because he shall accompany and aid you on your journeys. You will need companionship in the coming darkness."

Haldir was the first to protest, in his own reserved and respectful manner.

"My Lady, I cannot abandon my duties to the Galadhrim or the protection of these woods."

With him gone, leadership would temporarily be placed in his brothers' hands. The thought enough coaxed a twitching eyebrow from the elf. Haldir loved his brothers to death and they were dearest to him, but the Galadhrim were like a third sibling to him and he didn't trust this position to anyone else.

As if reading his mind, Galadriel dispelled Haldir's concerns.

"I'd like for both Orophin and Rúmil to join you as well, leave the Galadhrim to me and Celeborn. You would act as my parting gift to Lady Ivy, for I can't offer her anything but aid and companionship."

The Lady's words softened Haldir's resolve. He couldn't refuse such a request and Galadriel rarely took meaningless actions. If she saw fit to send him as an emissary and an extension of her reach, then Haldir wouldn't oppose the wisdom of the Lady of Lothlórien.

And he still remained one of the very few in these woods who could converse fluently in the Common Tongue. His brothers understood some of it, but their contact with outsiders had been pretty limited.

Refusing a direct request like that would also indicate that he didn't believe in his rulers' capabilities to handle their own defences for a while. Even Ivy was surprised at how quickly the marchwarden bended to the Lady's will.

"What task are we to accomplish?"

"Your road will lead you to Rohan. King Théoden has let his rule slip and the poisonous words of Saruman have clouded his mind. There is still hope to save him, but first you must save his life."

The human woman's hand subconsciously reached to her neck to clasp the brotherhood's necklace.

"Have the Nameless caught wind of this? Is this the threat we must protect him from?"

It had been ages since someone had dared to assassinate a king, but by now most must be aware that Saruman was a puppet to Sauron, and if any one of her brethren caught wind of Théoden's current state they'd no doubt ride straight to Edoras and see to it that a fit ruler occupied the throne instead.

Haldir's eyes flickered to the woman, his suspicions answered. He recalled seeing the emblem on Ivy's necklace before, but couldn't attach a name to its origins. Gandalf grasped Ivy's shoulder.

"Understand that king Théoden must live. We will need him and his united forces."

The wizard's words made no sense to Ivy. It felt as if both Gandalf and Galadriel were blessed with foresight, or perhaps it wasn't so much foresight as awareness of what was around them.

"I've sensed conflicting feelings, there is a discord spreading in your ranks along with misinformation. You must address it before it is too late and they succumb to lies, for you are one of their own, they _will_ heed your words."

The elf was affirmed and had experienced first-hand that the future was not set in stone and there was still time to save the king of Rohan and the Nameless Ones. It was enough to have just one person in their ranks who knew the truth, whatever it may be.

Ivy's fists tightened as her lips were pressed to a thin line. She had been out of contact with her companions for too long and these tidings worried her. Where did the false leads come from?

If it came from the inside then they were facing corruption in their own ranks. It nauseated her to think that one of their own would just abandon their vows that easily, unless under some sort of trickery.

No, she wouldn't resort to judgements before investigating the matter thoroughly. Ivy found it easier to think of it as just another lead that she was following. It was their job to deal with corruption, even amongst their own ranks.

The woman sighed at the thought of opposing one of her own, but she trusted the judgement of Galadriel and Gandalf and accepted this task. While she was not aiding the fellowship directly, this would suffice as a substitute.

"Are we to deal with Saruman's presence in Edoras as well?" asked Haldir.

The prospect was noble, but unsettling for he did not know how to deal with wizards. However the marchwarden had decided to find a way if Lady Galadriel commanded it.

It was Gandalf who answered him instead.

"Await for my arrival, stay unnoticed and protect Théoden. I have business in Fangorn that needs to be dealt with before I can journey to you."

Haldir nodded respectfully in acknowledgement, his path clear. This change of pace may even prove interesting; he couldn't remember the last time Lady Galadriel had set him on a quest beyond their borders. It would be an educating experience for his brothers as well.

"You can stay hidden, or you can infiltrate the halls under any pretence you deem necessary," injected Celeborn who had opted to remain silent during the banter "but do not try to alert the wizard or his spies that something is amiss."

Ivy snorted.

"As if we could hide the arrival of three elves!" the inelegant sound earning her a patronising look from Haldir who was seriously starting to doubt the woman's competence.

Well, he hadn't been in Moria with them and missed out on seeing Ivy's blade in action, and if luck smiled upon them he never will.

The last hour had overloaded Ivy with information and she was ready to spring into action for there was much to do and very little time to accomplish it, but perhaps this was for the best. Being in the front-lines, hunting for glory, none of that mattered to her as long as her actions benefit the overall outcome of the quest.

She opened her eyes, startling Haldir who had never seen such blazing emotions in a human's eyes, and smiled.

"Well what are we lollygagging around for then?"

* * *

When Haldir left Lady Galadriel's presence he couldn't get very far before his youngest brother Rúmil pounced on him. Well, to be more exact his brother performed a leap of faith and jumped from a great height, landing in front of Haldir, who barely reacted at the younger brother's antics. The blonde elf, very similar to Haldir in appearance, straightened up and theatrically brushed away some imaginary dust from his clothes.

"So? Are you going to share what knowledge the Lady bestowed upon you?" asked the elf, grinning at his deliberately unnatural use of language.

It felt comfortable to listen to the melodious words of his native language as opposed to what the human spoke.

"Where's Orophin? I need you both for this."

Rúmil seemed to stiffen.

"For what, brother dearest?" He asked, testing the waters to determine exactly what was Haldir blaming them for this time.

The marchwarden wasn't in the mood for these antics and he brushed past his brother, who obediently followed while cheerfully blabbering on.

"Orophin is exactly where you left him."

This drew a look of surprise from Haldir.

"You didn't untie him?" He questioned, suspicious of his brother's motives.

Orophin had decided to try and perform a trick shot with his bow that involved both dangerous heights and flips, something that could've rendered him unable to use his legs.

So Haldir did the only reasonable thing to raise his brother's awareness, even if just a little, and tied him hanging above the ground.

 _'If you have so little use for your legs then try living without them.'_

Well, it had taken a little longer to successfully catch Orophin and pin him up that, much to Haldir's annoyance, he had ran late to the dinner. Rúmil laughed, waving his hand dismissively.

"Well I'd rather risk his wrath as opposed to yours. Was the human woman awake?" pried his younger brother, eyes sneakily absorbing his reactions.

Or the lack, in this case.

Haldir's brother had proved time and again that there was a cunning elf behind the silly antics and gimmicks and Rúmil's behaviour did a fine job of covering it. As a reward for diligence, Haldir decided to answer truthfully.

"Indeed, alive and well." He noted dryly, the subtle change in his tone not escaping Rúmil's attention.

"Just what exactly did she say to you at the border?" He asked, pressing his luck just a little more.

It had to be something glorious, otherwise Haldir wouldn't be actively avoiding the topic and turning it into some sensitive matter to tiptoe around. The marchwarden was saved by the road as he reached the tree where his brother was hanging.

Orophin was clearly bored, swinging his legs around in an attempt to gain momentum and swing around like a pendulum. The sound of footsteps roused his attention, but his lips turned into a frown at the sight of his bane and the spawn. Haldir stood some distance away, crossing his arms across his chest with a smug smile on his lips.

"I see you've settled in nicely."

The marchwarden threw a brief look over his shoulder.

"And wipe that smirk off your face, Rúmil!" before turning back to the swinging elf who was whistling along the elf song sung in Gandalf's miraculous return.

"Yes, brother dearest," sighed Orophin, breaking his tune with a roll of his eyes "I've seen the wrongs of my ways, how could've I been so blind!" exclaimed the elf with dripping sarcasm.

Haldir showed no reaction to his provocations, but that much was to be expected. Instead he stood still with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

"Were it up to me you'd stay there for another day or so, but Lady Galadriel has a task for us."

This perked their interest as both brothers picked up the fact that they would get a break from border duty to engage in something much more thrilling. Unless the task was to move their perimeters south or something along the lines.

Haldir drew his dagger, throwing it to Rúmil who dexterously climbed the branches and cut through the rope that bound Orophin's hands. The latter graciously landed on his feet, taking this chance to stretch his sore muscles as the youngest brother landed right next to him.

"We're to accompany the human woman to Rohan and help preserve the life of their king."

The marchwarden had hoped that the mention of Ivy would go by unnoticed, but no such peace was granted to him as Rúmil grinned conspiratorially at Orophin.

"Perhaps we should teach her Quenya and let her divulge in how to draw a reaction from Haldir."

Haldir merely rolled his eyes when Orophin seemed eager to join forces with his brother. In all honesty the brothers would benefit much more trying to learn as much Westron as they could, for it wasn't certain when the opportunity might present itself, and partially because Haldir dreaded being the translator between them all.

"Joke as you wish, but it is important that we do not fail."

Orophin stepped forward, gripping his brother's shoulder warmly.

"Fear not, we'll be as dedicated and diligent as always, despite the excitement."

He hadn't quite forgiven Haldir for hanging him from the tree, but revenge would have to wait now that life had more interesting turns in store. It was easy to forget the passage of time when days seemed to melt into one and life became just one continuous float, it was a welcome distraction to be whooshed elsewhere by a gust of fresh tidings.

Rúmil hadn't dropped the grin, but he agreed with Orophin – they won't betray Lady Galadriel's trust. Happy with the outcome and tired of socialisation, Haldir excused himself curtly.

"We ride out at dawn, don't be late."

With a sharp turn he left the two brothers alone, who both broke into a mischievous grin, grateful for this wonderful opportunity to witness the human sass with Haldir,

"Wouldn't dream of it." hollered Orophin, lazily dragging out the words.

It was simply too good to miss out on.

* * *

 **Surprised? Amused? Excited? Well I am as from here on there can be more original content as opposed to tracking the books and movies line-by-line. Writing Haldir with his brothers was great fun, I couldn't just leave it out!**

 **Much thanks to my beta Oakenshield's Star who has to put up with my constant PMs of raw, unrefined ideas for future plot developments and improves each chapter.**

 **And of course thank you all for showing your support via reviews, follows and favourites! You make my day, lovelies.**

 **Until next chapter,**

 **cm**


	9. Into the Wild

9\. Into the Wild

The three elves, a woman and a wizard assembled before down. Strangely enough worry about anxiousness to commence their travels had eradicated all and any inklings of sleep. So it was that they gathered in the stables of Lothlórien ere break of day to ready their horses and exchange some farewells.

Thankfully, the elves of Lórien were readily prepared for their arrival, for they had all ready prepared their packs for travel, filling their water skins with the clear water from the river and supplied them with ample amounts of lembas, dried fruits and peanuts.

There was no grand ceremony or song from the elves to bless their travels, but the Lord and Lady of Lórien's presence was a blessing of their own. Lord Celeborn was kind enough to stay with Haldir and Ivy and suggest possible routes and outcomes, his experience and knowledge proving incredibly handy. Their biggest hurdle was travelling across the plains to Rohan safely.

Both the warden and the Nameles were unused to being on open terrain, finding it more customary to hide away in the branches and relying on shadows to concel their presence. The elves never gave out lembas lightly and this gesture grom Galadriel was another sign of friendship, trust and good will.

Just as it had been with the fellowship, Lady Galadriel gifted Mithrandir and Ivy the cloak woven by elves. They accepted the gift with grace and no small amount of surprise, donning them over their travel gear.

It felt light as a feather, soft to the touch and very warm. The elves had mended Ivy's clothes, sharpened her blades and above all, provided her with a chance to bathe proberly. Out of all the gifts of Lady Galadriel, the latter was what she was most grateful for.

Ivy and Gandalf stood a few paces away from Haldir and his two brothers. Ivy eyeing the elves curiously and noticing the wide grins the brothers threw in her direction every so often, completely ignoring Haldir's exasperated sighs.

They truly looked like siblings, all clad in their green elven gear and blonde hair that seemed to almost glisten when hit by light. She couldn't help that even splattered in mud, they would still look breathtakingly beautiful.

Throwing all this glamour aside, it was clear that Haldir cared deeply for his brothers. It seemed as if he reacted to their every move, always wary and always ready. As if he was expecting a bear to leap out of the bushes and maim his brothers. The sight, this display of affection made her envious, an emotion she quickly quelled.

The marchwarden was anxious, not only was he leaving the Galadhrim without their leader, he had to bring along his two little brothers as well and deal with the smart mouthed woman. Haldir, for the tenth time this morning, had to remind himself that Ivy was not carrying her blades as mere trinkets and based on his knowledge of the Nameless, she was well travelled and knew how to survive in the wilds and therefore prone to be an asset, not a liability.

He observed her, petting the sliver mare that the elves had saddled for her, admiring the animal's beauty. She clearly had a knack for handling animals, much more so than she did for humans. Gandalf's snow white horse had no saddle or harness but at this point, Ivy found it hard to be surprised by the wizard's strange antics.

It felt foreign to her to break away from the fellowship, as if she was breaking her word. The mere thought left a bitter taste in her mouth. It wasn't only the fellowship that Ivy felt she had betrayed, she hadn't sent a report to comrades since, nor had she received any news. Perhaps they thought that she was dead or had turned her back on the Nameless?

It didn't really matter in the long run. Her belonging to the brotherhood was like a mantra to keep her on the right path and to never abandon the purpose for which she was trained. Was her mentor still alive? Ivy hadn't thought about him in quite a while. Best reserve her attention for the living and those recently returned to the living.

"I still can't believe you're alive and now we must part ways so soon." She said with a tinge of sadness in her voice.

Her melancholy had driven her thoughts down some dour paths, but she tried to brush them away. It's not every day that a reincarnated wizard reappears. Gandalf stirred on her right hand side and patted the woman on the shoulder like a parent.

"Our paths will cross quite soon in Edoras. Fear not, this is not the last time we meet."

Ivy smiled, the icy look in her eyes somewhat melting with the warmth emitted from her hear.

"Ride safe, Mithrandir." whispered the woman.

The wizard gave her shoulder one more assuring squeeze before jumping up astride the horse with the agility of a young man. He looked regal and imposing on the beautiful horse and locked eyes with Lady Galadriel.

Some silent message was passed between them and suddenly the horse took off with terrifying speed, racing through the trees like a storm. Ivy merely gasped at the far away figure of Gandalf. She had never witnessed such haste, not from the horses of Rohan nor elves. The woman locked eyes with her own horse and she petted his neck affectionately.

"Oh don't worry, my undivided love still belongs to you."

She heard someone cough behind her. The woman glanced over her shoulder to see that Haldir and his brothers were already astride their horses. How they had managed that without a rustle of the leaves littered on the ground was a mystery. Without arguing she followed them, riding the sliver horse to their line up and the ghost of a smile disappeared from her lips.

Lady Galadriel spoke to the elves in their own tongue, her melodious voice flowing over the words as if she was singing. It made common tongue sound crude and unrefined in comparsion. The three brothers who just moments ago had been joking and jesting were suddenly so uncharacteristically dignified in the Lady's presence, only proving her influence. After exchanging some polite wishes, Lady Galadriel turned to Ivy.

"I've naught to give you but my blessings. Stay true and trust your heart, for truth is not singular."

Galadriel smiled, her face radiating of grace and encouragement, enough to make Ivy avert her eyes with slight embarrassment as she attempted a bow astride the horse and make some sense of the cryptic message.

"Thank you for everything and...I mean that. If you ever need assistance with anything, you just need to ask."

There was nothing else left to say. Nothing to ease the weight of the task ahead. They turned around their horses and with Haldir leading the column, they took off. The elven horses knew the paths well and with a quick trot, they made their way through the woods. With each passing moment, Lady Galadriel grew more distant and began to resemble a lone star amidst the golden woods.

* * *

The hooves rhythmical beating lulled Ivy into some sort of daydream, where she observed the elves around her patiently. Orophin and Rúmil spoke more amongst themselves with Haldir occasionally interjecting a comment here and there.

The Nameless couldn't gather the courage to speak with the marchwarden. For some intangible reason, his mere presence made her shift on her horse and not in search of a more comfortable position. For the first time in quite a while, Ivy was struggling to apologise.

Frankly, she couldn't remember every struggling so much with an apology, but Haldir's ominous frame looming in the corner of her eye was like the beginning of an eclipse. They had been riding non stop for hours and had only reached the edge of the forest.

From here on, they faced endless plains, with Fangorn looming in the West. The sun was already setting and Ivy hadn't exchanged one word with the elves. It wasn't hostility that she sensed, but the awkwardness of a new encounter.

The group kept on pressing forward, leaving Ivy gritting her teeth in the background. True enough, elves don't need to sleep, but was Haldir purposefully forgetting the fact that they were travelling with a human?

Someone as attentive and cunning as the warden wouldn't let a small fact such as that slip from his mind. Meaning that he was purposefully testing her? Was he hoping for her to balk and show a sign of weakness? Well Ivy wasn't up for childish games like that, the woman knew well enough tha she's no use to anyone half asleep with sluggish reflexes. She slowed down her horse, drawing Haldir's attention, who picked up the change of pace immediately.

"Is something the matter?"

His voice made it sound as if he was conducting a business deal. Rúmil and Orophin followed suit immediately like the good soldiers they were, glancing curiously between the two. Despite their very limited vocabulary in the common tongue, they were perceptive enough to pick up the meaning. Ivy dismounted her horse, staring up from the ground.

"We should make camp."

Haldir peered down at her, tilting his head just enough to infuriate Ivy. Was this elf truly so dense that she had to spell it out for him? She drew a slow, deep breath to force her tone to be somewhat civil before answering.

"I am still a human and need a few hours of sleep, and then we can press on."

She paid no more attention to the warden, leading her horse away from the open land and letting the long shadows of the woods shield it. Rúmil, always the perceptive one, picked up some words of the common tongue and was the first to jump off his horse and lead the mare away and into the trees to be concealed from sight. Orophin soon followed suit and this left the marchwarden no choice but to agree with them.

"I'll go draw some fresh water for the horses." said Orophin, before shuffling off into the woods, silent as a mouse.

Haldir dismounted, gripping the reigns tightly. What was the matter with him? Never before had he been so purposefully crass with a woman. An elf as old as him should show some dignity, not hold a petty grudge over a few misspoken words.

His ears pricked up at the sound of the woman's approaching footsteps. Rúmil would have made such a racket. She coughed a few times to get his undivided attention. The elf relaxed his features, though his grip remained tense before turning around to face the woman.

Hawke like features and piercing eyes, but theu lacked the fire that he had witnessed the first time they met, instead they seemed uneasy. Haldir noticed that Rúmil had left somewhere or..and this was the more likely scenario, he had hidden away somewher to evesdrop what little he could deciper from the snippets of their conversation.

 _"Goheno nin, Haldir."_

Ivy could feel that she completely butchered the pronunciation, her elvish being nothing like the melodious words of Galadriel, but this was one of the very few phases she had picked up on her travels. His eyes widened a fraction at her words. Her mastery of the language was crude and clumsy, but it was the effort and sentiment that earned some respect from Haldir.

"I can be protective of my friends, so I apologise for lashing out. You were merely being cautious, that is all."

The elf continued to peer at her wordlessly, but she stood her ground, waiting for some sort of verbal reaction. There was none, but he extended his hand as a sign of good fate. The warden had to bite back his amused grin when he witnessed the woman's eyes light up as if he had gifted her with gems.

Ivy smiled, shaking his hand firmly. It was soft and warm to the touch, but his grip was strong. Whatever bad blood there was between them, was now stowed away. It was then that Haldir saw Rúmil leaning against the tree, smirking as if he was sitting atop a scandalous secret.

Truth be told, last time Haldir saw that look was when Rúmil had managed to successfully flop Orophin's every attempt at courting a young elven maid. _'A terrible influence_ ' he had dubbed the maid and for three years, all and every attempt Orophin showed to spend time with her, ended up in disaster until she stopped pursuing him.

"I didn't know you spoke elven." said Haldir as he guided the horse to the rest, with Ivy hanging a few paces behind him.

She laughed, the sound bouncing of the branches.

"Now you're merely mocking me, even I could tell that it was horrid."

Human's were strange creatures to him. Their lack of innate grace is what made them so foreign to Haldir's senses. He couldn't imagine any lady from Lorien to burst out laughing in such a manner with no care. He couldn't help but to smirk.

"Indeed, you could use some guidance. Perhaps my brothers can help you. For they can't speak the common tongue. A mutually beneficial arrangement, don't you agree?"

At the sound of his name, Rúmil jumped in on the conversation.

"What's this, dear brother dearest? Already spewing mean things about me?"

The young elf was cheerful bearing a handful of lembas that he offered to Ivy and Haldir. The former accepted it with a smile, eyeing the pale bread with some suspicion, battling the urge to ask,

 _'Is that it?'_

Haldir held back a sigh."Only speaking the truth. I offered her an exchange, you andOrophin teach her elvish while learning the common tongue."

The warden cast a quick glance to Ivy who was still eyeing the lembas bread, instead of eating it.

"Eat, it'll replenish your strength"

His words came out a little harsher than he intended. Haldir sighed inwardly and excused himself for the night, trotting away and into the woods and leaving her alone with Rúmil. Ivy held back the urge to snap at him for treating her like a child, but then she remembered that for him that's exactly what she was. She stuffed the piece into her mouth, eating the entire thing in one bite.

It seemed like Middle Earth could not tolerate an empty spot for long, for Orophin returned just a few moments after Haldir disappeared, glancing after his older brother before redirecting his attention to the horses that were thirsty from their long journey.

The blond elf seemed to almost glow amidst the trees; the scene looked as if it were cut out from a fairy-tale. Ivy quickly reminded herself not to gawk and forced the elvish bread down her throat before brushing her hands clean against her trousers. Rúmil seemed amused for Ivy was like an open book to him. Each thought that passed through her head forced the muscles in her face to shift a fraction.

" _Man esselya ná?"_ asked Rúmil.

At Ivy's confused look he pointed at himself.

 _"Im Rúmil. Man essely ná?"_

" _Im Orophin,"_ echoed the middle brother, smiling to the Nameless while offering her horse some water.

The sparks of understanding dawned at Ivy's features and she repeated the phrase. It took a few tries before the young brother seemed satisfied. Her pronunciation wasn't bad, for a human. She echoed the phrase back in common tongue,

"I'm Ivy. What is your name?"

* * *

Orophin was the unlucky elf that woke Ivy from her slumber at dawn. Years of practice had honed her reflexes and she sprung to her feet in a heartbeat, ready to defend herself, but relaxed quickly when she recognised the three elven men in front of her.

The realisation that her companions did not sleep felt foreign. Did they merely sit around while she slumbered? Or did they listen to any words that might have slipped out in the midst of her dreams? Ivy found it strange, but she wasn't hungry, despite having only a small piece of lembas last night. In fact, she felt much more vigorous than before.

"Good morning." She greeted them politely.

In return Orophin taught her the elvish phrase for the same thing.

The Nameless brushed the sleep from her eyes before taking a sip of water, relishing the cold sensation in the light of the pale morning sun. While she would have loved to stay like this forever, the reality and weight of their task weighed heavy in her mind.

"We must make haste and reach Edoras by nightfall. I believe we should agree upon some sort of plan."

She spoke while mounting her horse, the other three elves right behind her. It seemed that someone, most likely Orophin, had tended to the horses while she was asleep and for that she was grateful.

They rode away, the horses flying across the plain grassland as if it were air. Ivy was taken aback at their speed and dexterity, but then again, has anything elven ever disappointed her Haldir rode up to her side so they could converse, his hair catching the morning sun beautifully. After forming a fragile truce between them he thought it best to keep things amicable and listen to her opinions.

"We were sent as companions, I'd hear your thoughts on the course of action first."

Rúmil and Orophin looked at Haldir expectantly, but he dismissed them with a promise to relay the conversation to them later on. Haldir's willingness to hear her out surprised the Nameless. Though, willingness did not mean compliance and there was a fair chance he would ignore everything she said.

She glanced around warily, though there wasn't a being in sight in her horizon. It was as if she expected spies of Saruman to be at every corner for one couldn't trust the woods or birds no longer.

"This ground makes me nervous, it feels naked without the forest. Too easy to hunt us down here, in plain sight."

Haldir had to agree with the woman, though he would not voice this opinion. The elf was so accustomed to living in the woods that he felt bare under the great blue sky. For a thousand years he had ventured the woods, rarely leaving Lorien for there was no reason to.

"Our peoples' garments will hide us away from unwanted eyes, while you are blessed with three companions with excellent sight."

His assurance drew a smile on her lips. A plan was beginning to hatch in her mind and she knew just how Haldir and his brothers could be of help.

"From unwanted eyes you say?" She asked, just to be sure of the meaning of his words.

From her previous experience, elven magic worked in strange ways, but it was often strangely and uncharacteristically literal. The marchwarden nodded.

"Indeed, we could pass mostly unnoticed, only a keen pair of eyes might catch wind of us at a distance."

Ivy pursed her lips in thought.

"I don't wish to sound ungrateful, but I believe it best if we split up before Edoras. I will sneak in to the city while you draw the attention on yourself. While I have unwavering trust in Lady Galadriel's magic, I also believe that it will be a whole lot more effective if the eyes are turned on you three."

Haldir tilted his head.

"You mean to serve us as bait?"

"No!" sighed the Nameless exasperatedly "As a distraction. How many elves do you think these peasants have seen in their lifetime? Most likely none. It will be considerably easier for me to sneak in unnoticed and root out the Nameless when people don't even care to acknowledge me being there."

"We're travelling to Minas Tirith, only seeking for a place to rest and replenish our food and drink."

Haldir echoed her thought, earning a friendly smile from the Nameless.

"There, you got it, but better figure out a reason why you're heading there. The more specific, the better."

He held back the urge to roll his eyes at the woman, it wasn't his first time lying to a bunch of humans and he hardly needed any coaching.

"What about you?" He inquired, sceptical that one woman would be enough to protect a king.

Not to mention they would risk everything if she got caught. Ivy sensed his unease and lack of trust. Not so much in her as a human, but in her capabilities. The woman straightened up atop the mare, the blue sapphire of her dagger gleaming proudly in the sun and she stared fiercely at the marchwarden, her lips curled in a smirk.

"I sense that you underestimate me by a mile. If I have to go up against someone from the brotherhood, it'd serve me well to be on my own if there is any chance of this ending amicably. The Nameless aren't just a group of bandits that have somehow managed to withstand the force of time, we know how to survive."

"Judging by Lady Galadriel's words, they might just crumble at this age."

The words escaped Haldir's lips before he could stop himself. Ivy felt as if the warden had smacked her in the face with a thick branch. This is what the Nameless had become then? A shadow of its former self, a group of vigilantes who pass judgement from the shadows, this was her legacy and her entire identity.

Haldir stared straight ahead into the distance, daring not to look at the blonde woman next to her.

"Pardon me, it was rude to pass judgement like that."

Ivy shook her head, dismissing his apology.

"No, you were being honest. It means I have to work hard to make the Nameless better, so we could do good and wouldn't fall under scorn."

"Is it glory you seek?" asked Haldir, curious of her motives.

He had heard of the Nameless, but had never really given much thought to them. They had earned the permanent brand of 'troublemakers' in his head with all their meddling.

"Wrong again. We are not meant to pursue glory, our names are not meant to be spoken or written down. We're only here to do what no one else dares or could for we're not bound to any king or political scheme."

The latter argument sounded contradictory to Haldir and he made a mental note to debate the matter later with Ivy. He eyed the proud figure carefully, braided hair whipping in the wind with some strands fluttering around her face like butterfly wings.

"So you believe the world to be black and white?"

This drew a sombre smile from the woman who shook her head as memories from earlier years flashed by her eyes. How many times were they faced with a choice of letting a few die for the greater good? Fifteen lives in exchange for five hundred lives . How could anyone hope to make this decision?

"No, quite the contrary. Often there is a choice between two evils, it's up to us to determine what's the best course of action in the long run."

An uncomfortable silence fell between the two, just screaming to be broken. Haldir found yet another contradiction in Ivy's claims that he wished to shed some light on.

"You call yourself Nameless and Ivy at the same time, which is true?"

This caught the woman by surprise for the last person to ask this question from her happened to be Mithrandir. The stinging ache from just a few minutes ago was fading as Haldir steered the conversation elsewhere, diverting her attention and shooting cues as he would shoot an arrow.

"Now that is a story for some evening over a glass of wine. Haldir, will you help me with my scheme or not?"

They exchanged a long look, trusting the elven horses to carry them for those short moments. There it was, the fire that Haldir had seen the first time they met was back. Something in their conversation had stirred the flames inside of her and Ivy seemingly had reached some sort of conclusion.

Finally, Haldir relented.

"Alright, I'll trust your judgement in this matter."

Ivy smiled, pleased that he had extended this olive branch. Now all she had to do was not to disappoint him, or she would never hear the end of his gloating.

"Thank you. Now if you'll excuse me, I think I have a day's worth of elvish lessons ahead of me."

* * *

 **What's this? I am back from the dead?**

 **Hello to all of you, both new readers and old. You can't imagine how surprised I was when I logged on after several months to see that people were still reading this story, even got a message or two asking me to continue. Much love for my beta reader who took me back despite my disappearance~**

 **No worries, I have some great plans for this story. As of now, I am at a tender age of 21, meaning that my studies and internship took priority this year and after my winter break ended in January, I had no time to spare to write. Well, I did try, but it wasn't anything worth reading so I decided to wait until I felt like writing again so you wouldn't end up with something I forced myself to write.**

 **I have a nice thick notebook that I'm filling with future ideas and loads of new characters that have to be introduced. So brace yourselves, I hope it'll be as fun for you to read as it is for me to write this.**

 **cm**


	10. The Edge of Night

10\. The Edge of Night

Rohan was, as one might expect, deadly still in the night. Every once in a while, a bout of mandatory laughter escaped the pub whenever someone exited the premises, but even that sounded shrill and forced.

Therefore, one can only imagine the surprise of the guardsmen when they witnessed three figures approching the gates astride on horses, armed, that seemed to radiate in the moonlight. The two posted at the gates sprung to their feet at an instant, hands gripping their sword hilts, ready to draw them at first sign of danger.

Recent events had increased their aversness towards anything magical.

"Who comes there?" demanded the tallest of them, his voice steady.

Haldir was the first one to toss his hood, revealing his long hair and sitting tall atop his horse.

"I am Haldir from Lothlórien, these here are my brothers Orophin and Rúmil. We are travelling to Minas Tirith and wish to resupply and rest."

The guard's posture relaxed, somewhat naturally mesmerised by the elf. He cracked a small smile to the Marchwarden.

"Well-well, I can't remember the last time the elves of Lórien passed through here."

The elf echoed his smile.

"Indeed, but perhaps it's time to change that."

In light of recent events, the guardsman found himself pondering, perhaps a fresh set of eyes would do some good. Perhaps they could spread word of what was happening in Rohan. Edoras used to be a glistening gem, a prosperous city that was alive. Now it was merely a shadow of its former self. He signalled his mates to stand aside, stepping aside from the open gate to way for the elves.

"Welcome to Edoras, my lords. I'm Holger, son of Holdor if there are introductions to be made. You'll find a local inn further down the city, it's hard to miss, I suggest you wait until morning for the stalls to open again so you can resupply, but feel free to stay longer than the night."

Haldir placed his palm on his chest as a gesture of politeness and gratitude.

"Thank you, perhaps we will. There is no hurry."

The guard chuckled heartily.

"Ride along now, it's late and stranger folk may be around at night."

The trio reied their horses through the gate, trotting through Edoras at a calm pace. Out of habit, Haldir scanned the environment with his eyes, automatically making note of every exit route, house and detail he could see.

Most houses had already dimmed their lights for the night, but some chimneys were still merrily smoking. The scant pubs scattered around the town were also still up and running, yet the city still felt dead.

"I don't like the feel of this city." said Orophin, resorting to their native tongue to avoid any eavesdroppers.

Rúmil nodded, agreeing with his brother. Edoras felt tense enough to cut the air with a knife. Haldir tried, but couldn't notice their Nameless companion. He had hoped that she would meet up with them once inside to discuss how to proceed. That's why Lady Galadriel had sent them, so she could aid the cause without physically being there.

"Any sight of our companion?" asked Haldir to his brothers, although he doubted that his vigilance had been that sloppy.

Rúmil shook his head.

"I think it's best we head to an inn. I doubt she's going to reveal herself here in the open."

The Warden had to agree with this assessment and decided to folloe Holger's advice and head to the local inn. For some reason, he felt that whatever Ivy was up to at the momment, she'd have no problem tracking down their movements. Her assessment had been correct that Edoras hadn't witnessed the presence of elves in a very long time.

They found the tavern easily enough and rented a room for a week. Their room was a little musty, but comfortable and warm. Haldir ordered a flagon of wine to be delivered, along with two cups. He poured one for himself and the other for Ivy, remembering her promise to him.

'Something to be discussed over a glass of wine.'

Despite their crass first introduction, she had proved to be intriguing of all things. Passionate, loyal and affectionate to those she cared of and above all headstrong, driven and passionate about her beliefs and goals.

If anything, Haldir wished to be on amicable terms with her after her apology and earnest effort to communicate to them in their native tongue. So he sat by the window, sipped the red wine and patiently waited.

* * *

Entering the city had proven to be child's play for Ivy. She had observed Edoras from a distance to distinguish guard patrol rottations and found none. Security had deteriorated to the scale of lax and non-existent.

There was even one gate that manned, but the lone guard posted there was fast asleep, allowing Ivy to merelt prance into the city on her horse. The elven steed proved to be quiet enough to not wake up the guard.

She had thought about sending the mare back to Lórien to sneak in alone by scaling the walls, but then decided against it. There was no point in slipping in the city alone. If there were any Nameless there, then they'd sniff her presence with ease either way, since they were basically trackers and assassins by trade. So she'd essentially end up in the same predicament with no horse.

Ivy led her horse to the stable, surprised to find a young stable boy still up and about. The familiar rustling of horses and smell of fresh hay made her feel strangely at home for some reason.

It was a strange occurrence Ivy had noticed regarding the Nameless. True, they had no memories of their former lives, but for some reason, scents still jostled feelings of nostagia, hinting them of their origin. It was something they cherished and a secret each member guarded carefully. She dropped a heavy bag of silver on the young lad's palm.

"Take good care of her, you never saw me."

The boy was a little grim considering the sum of money was probably enough to feed him for months, though he merely nodded.

"Understood, my lady."

This caused Ivy's brow to furrow. No questions asked? Meaning that this was either a regular occurrence or recent request to the stable boy. Both were equally worrying. She let her eyes scan over the horses stationed there quickly and spotted two other horses that were not from Rohan, nor were they elven steeds. As if a machine, the gears in her head begun turning.

Possibly two others were here. Where would they go? Straight to the king? Did theu arrive separately or are they working together? The questions and possible courses of action ran through her mind at lighting speed. What would she have done in their stead?

After infiltration it seemed logical to start by simply observing the locals. Perhaps at a tavern to gather gossip and news. Not anyone can just waltz into the king's halls, but infiltration is always possible. The important thing to know was how long had they been here.

There was though one cause of action she could take. Hide in the king's halls and provide direct protection. That had been Lady Galadriel's task to her. The choice to track down her brothers remained, but what was th chance of bargaining with them?

Judging by the news she received in Lórien, the situation was dire. Nameless are known to pass their own judgement, while giving careful thought on the impact. The assassination of a king had taken place before but it was...rare. They might decide that she's corrupt and hinder her from completing her task.

Théoden had to survive, no matter his condition. He had a son, an heir, meaning that the king's death would provide a quick sucession. She stalked through Edoras, following the shadows of the night.

Ivy then noticed three elven horses in front of a local inn and it caused her to halt. She glanced at the windows, although it was an idle urge and there he was. Haldir, beautiful and collected as ever was sitting by the window, silently pondering and sipping something from a cup every now and then.

The Nameless was about to turn away and go off on her ownm but something held her back. A sense of duty perhaps or gratitude towards the elves despite her aversion to them. Despite knowing how risky it was to make contact, Ivy grinded her teeth a nd turned away from Meduseld and headed to the inn.

Ivy thought about scaling the wooded wall to get to Haldir's room, but decided it would draw less attention if she simply slipped inside without making a ruckus. The tavern on the ground level was surprisingly lively, much to her relief. Slipping through the crowd proved to be an easy feat, not even the bartender noticed or questioned her presence. Ivy hadn't thought that Lady Galadriel's cloak worked this literally.

She made it up to the second floor and easily found the correct room. Ivy was about to knock but found it meaningless. For what she had witnessed. the elve's hearing was so ridiculously sharp that they probably knew her footsteps by heart.

The woman pushed open the door, three back her hood and stepped inside the room. As suspected, they made no sudden movements to draw their weapons, leading Ivy to believe that they weren't resting but merely staying vigilant in a seemingly nonchalant manner.

"Good evening, friends." She greeted the brothers, trying to utilise what Orophin and Rúmil had taught her.

Her pronunciation was still aboninable, but there were signs of improvement. Rúmil jumped up from the bed, coming to greet the woman.

"I'm glad you made it! We were just about to send out a search party."

Ivy understood the first half of his words, but the second sounded merely like gibberish and she merely stood there with a sheppish smile plastered across her face. If Orophin smacking his brother with a pillow was enough indication, it was most likely something silly.

Haldir snapped something at his brothers, causing both of them to shut up and aresume their previous positions. Ivy glanced at them apologetically before sighing.

"There's no need to be so harsh."

The Warden let her obsevation slip and instead motioned her to take the seat opposite of him by the window. Ivy wordlessly complied, but not before sliding the chair away from the window so she could remain hidden from anyone glancing below.

Haldir poured her a glass of wine while she grabbed the loaf of bread on the table and tore of a piece. His brothers observed the interaction between them like hawks, mostly likely hoping that between the two of them, they could later translate the conversation.

Haldir was the first to speak, vocalising what they were both thinking at the time. He pushed the glass of wine towards the woman who cast one hesitant look before agreeing to take a sip to wash down the bread. Dulling her senses with alcohol was a foolish thing to do at the moment.

"I wasn't sure you would show up."

She swallowed before cracking a small smile.

"Just a coincidence that I happened to pass by. I had no plan to drop by to be completely honest."

The Warden frowned and although he appreciated her honesty, a sudden flare of irritation washed over his loins.

"On your own, with no backup or words to us?"

His sharp and demanding tone of voice annoyed Ivy, but she didn'r let it show. The elves hadn't ridden a long way of home just to rot away in an inn and only now did Ivy realise the reason for his frustration. She inhaled a calming breath of the dusty air before responding.

"I wotk best alone and sneaking inside the king's hall is difficult enough on my own. I just have to make up one or two grand lies or try to remain unnoticed."

She paused before continuning, trying to cover up the possible implication of her words.

"Haldir, I don't doubt skills of you and your brothers, but I must go alone."

He leaned back in his chair, throwing one leg over the other.

"What if you get caught?" He asked, as if there were a way to answer his question.

Ivy held back the urge to roll her eyes.

"Would we still be having this discussion had I been born a man?" She snapped at the Marchwarden, using the argument as old as time.

The retort made Haldir's eyes widen just a little, causing the elf to stumble over his words.

"Have some faith, Haldir. While I protect the king from inside his own halls, I need you to keep an eye out for me. There may be up to two of my brethren inside Edoras as we speak, although I haven't seem them. Though you and I both know that Mithrandir had completed his task, whatever it may be, he will most likely land here sooner or later and we can join up once more then. If possible, you could enter Meduseld before Gandalf does, make up an excuse to get in. Any excuse. Does this sound fair enough?"

She crossed her arms over her chest as if to challenge Haldir to debate with her. He held back a mocking smirk, quirking an eyebrow.

"I am to idly sit by while you self-sacrifically endanger yourself?"

Ivy refrained from pouring the contents of her mug over his stupid, smug face and decided to act like a poised and civil adult instead.

"Make yourself useful and find if there are any Nameless in these walls. Reason with them, if necessary keep them away from the king but do not harm them. I will kill you myself if something happens to them."

Well, poised and civil was perhaps an attempt of overachievement. Haldir almost flinched at the ferocity in her eyes. Ivy mentally cursed herself for threatening Haldir in such a manner, right after things had begun to seem civil between the two. She lowered her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Damn it, ignore my final words. I don't mean it. I mean I do, but…Damn it!"

To her surprise she didn't receive a backlash from the Warden, instead he laughed. He had no plan to let her go in completely alone, but for now it was easier to seemingly comply with the demands of this human woman.

"I understand, you love your companions dearly. Alright, I trust you to handle this task, but if you get caught I will break you out."

Ivy looked up from her lap, her sharp features breaking into a smile.

"I'll drink to that, Haldir of Lothlórien."

* * *

Meduseld was simultaneously one of the easiest places to break into, but also the hardest. It had no remote balconies nor was it hidden from view. A grand stairway led to the top of the hill where the hall stood, proud and beautiful. A hall of such grandness had to have several back entrances, a way for the workers and traders to go in and out. Ivy made note of those beforehand in case she needed a quick way out.

For now she determined that only a fool would try to infiltrate the castle without a proper plan. This could only end with her being caught and thrown in prison or worse, executed. So there was naught to do but to wait until morning and try to gain access officially. While the Nameless may be out to assassinate the king, they hadn't done it yet so concealing her affiliations was unnecessary.

So she did the only reasonable thing and went back to the very inn she had just deserted. Before entering she removed Lady Galadriel's cloak, choosing to make it seem as if she's acting alone and shamelessly letting her presence be known.

Renting a room proved to be simple, accompanied with the usual surprised looks and mentions of her weapons, but not to the extent that she had grown accustomed to. It was well-known that in Rohan it wasn't unheard of for a woman to know how to handle a blade. True, they weren't recruited to the army, but it wasn't stigmatised to learn how to protect oneself.

Ivy nearly went back to the elves, but at the last moment decided against it and retreated to her own room. She washed the dirt and dust from her skin and hair to be at least somewhat presentable tomorrow before turning in to bed for a night of restless sleep, plagued by nightmares of failure – failure of the quest, failure of Galadriel's task and failure to discover what was happening with the Nameless.

The sun was up by the time she roused from sleep. Ivy dressed, ate a hasty breakfast downstairs and then turned her course to Meduseld. It felt as if she was marching towards doom, but years of training had taught her how to control her body language and thoughts in order to focus on the task ahead and believe whatever was necessary.

For now her plan was to find a way to at least see the king with her own eyes to determine the situation and from there on find an ally. Someone who could be reasoned with and convinced of her good intent. Or better yet, find the king's son and reason with him instead, what better person to aid her.

She marched down the road with her back straight and head held high, and it was all going well until she saw someone. Oh how she wished to throw a tantrum right then and there, but instead she forced her face into relaxed neutrality. Haldir turned to her, smiling.

"Ah, I was beginning to think that you wouldn't show."

Ivy had to physically clench her jaw to stop herself from shouting at the elf right then and there. Stupid, lying, reckless, selfish race of pompous…

"We should head inside, the hall seems quite ready for us. I think I'll handle the talking."

The Nameless grinned.

"Oh, you really think I'll let you mess this all up?"

"And you really thought I'd let you go in alone?"

* * *

A chase was taking place in Edoras, a hooded figure, chased by a tall elf with light hair. Now that was a sight one does not see often. Orophin found that for the first time he was struggling to keep up with a human of all things! The man had to be a human, he was tall, but lacked the presence and grace of the elves.

Orophin was positive that this was the right man. Now how did things end up like this?

Before Haldir set out he tasked his brothers to patrol the city, especially public places and keep their eyes open for anything suspicious. So he and Rúmil decided to stroll around Edoras. Stalls were opening and to keep suspicion away from them, they made a few purchases as instructed by their brother.

It was his younger brother Rúmil who caught sight of something interesting. A cloaked and hooded figure buying bread, right at the stall next to theirs. As the human reached to his coin pouch to pay up he pulled away his cloak, revealing something that Rúmil recognised right away.

He had seen a dagger on that man's hip, the same dagger that he had admired on Ivy numerous times before. Only this time the gem was green. There was no mistake, unless it was stolen from the rightful owner then this might've been the Nameless assassin that they were looking for.

Rúmil had only taken a few steps towards the human before he broke off into a run.

Thus the chase began through the morning crowd, a human, chased by two elves. So much for staying unnoticed, if things went amiss today then the group might just have to start planning their escape from Edoras while they're at it. Orophin signalled for his brother to split up and corner the man. Rúmil had always been the fastest of the three.

Orophin noticed a street corner coming up and as he had expected, the man made a sharp turn. He smirked when he heard him come to a halt, skidding through the dirt and creating a cloud of dust around him. At the end of the road was Rúmil, hardly panting, but smirking victoriously like a hunter would do after days of stalking his prey.

"I did not expect to meet two elf lords here."

It shocked them both to hear the man speak in their tongue. When the dust settled he straightened up and removed his hood, revealing a head of messy short hair. The man must've been around his early thirties, but his most striking feature was his eyes. The left one was dark brown while the right one was light blue, the stark contrast made it seem as if they were black and white.

"You speak like one of our own." Noted Orophin with some disdain.

Truthfully he was impressed as the man's accent was almost unnoticeable. Mandos grinned lazily.

"And you came here with one of our own."

The Nameless leaned lazily against the wall, hands resting by his side. Rúmil raised an eyebrow, ready to draw his blade at any moment.

"She's with us of her own free will."assured Rúmil in some vague hope that small amount of common ground they had might keep things friendly.

"I don't doubt that, you can't coerce Ivy into anything she doesn't want to."

Orophin closed in on Mandos slowly, carefully as if dealing with a wild animal – unpredictable and incredibly dangerous.

"You're coming with us."said Orophin to the human who merely nodded to his surprise.

"I don't doubt that. It's been too long since I've seen Ivy as well. How is she?"

Rúmil tied his hands, which Mandos allowed him to do without any resistance. No doubt the man could break out of his bonds whenever he so desired, but his compliance was suspicious. Orophin couldn't even voice his concerns to his brother for Mandos could understand them.

He was either careless or purposefully wanted them to lead him to Ivy. Whatever the reason, they were ready to fight this human if necessary. Haldir had left them to go to Meduseld and assist Ivy.

Whatever the outcome, they had to reveal the presence of this assassin as proof of some plot going on. So the brothers led him towards the hill where stood the straw-roofed hall of kings. Mandos was quiet the entire way, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.

Only then did he look up when the sound of ripping fabric pierced the air. The brothers followed suit to see the last flag being blown away by the harsh and cold spring winds of Rohan. In front of Meduseld stood a number of flag poles, all of them empty with some traces of fabric left on them.

A maiden in white stood there like a protector of Edoras, observing the town below. She looked at the flag being blown away by wind, eyes filled with sadness before turning away and heading back inside.

* * *

Haldir and Ivy stood in the corner of the grim hall of Meduseld. What used to be a warm, grand and welcoming place and a collection of Rohan's history was now a silent, bleak hall with thugs stalking the corners. No doubt hired by Grima Wormtongue. A slippery man that hovered around the king, whispering lies and deceit in his ear.

Ivy occasionally glanced at this grey, feeble man that the Rohirrim called king. Ivy would have removed this man from power had she not met Lady Galadriel and received this task. Just how could this man be of any use to the future was unknown, but she dared not argue with a being as old as time itself.

Before pleading for the king's presence they had asked for the presence of the heir, only to be noted that Théoden's only son and heir had perished in battle and quite recently. This threw a large chip in their plans and for the time being they were waiting for their turn to speak with the king. Foreign visitors would come after internal affairs.

"Still hate me for coming along?" whispered Haldir almost inaudibly, his lips barely moving.

Ivy snorted audibly.

"Without fail."

The Marchwarden held back the urge to roll his eyes.

"Well what next?"

Her eyes flicked to Haldir for only a moment before going back to scanning the hall. There had to be someone here by now, from the order. Why else did Galadriel send them out with such haste?

"You mean you came here with only one lie up your sleeve? Make something up, oh great Warden since you were the one-,"

"My presence did not kill the king's son. You would be in the same predicament, only alone." demanded Haldir patiently, trusting Ivy to be a woman of reason.

She rolled her eyes at his complete lack of self-preservation.

"I never said you are at fault. It just baffles me you'd put yourself in this situation at a foreign country."

Haldir was utterly perplexed, feeling the same familiar sense of annoyance towards the woman.

"Foreign country? I am the commander of Lady Galadriel's forces. You are no one."

The Warden regretted those words the moment they left his lips, despite the fact that Ivy looked completely unhurt by them. This was quite possibly the worst time for them to bicker about such matters, but there was truth behind it. He had a powerful patron while Ivy was part of an organisation that was bordering the lines of illegality. What he meant and how he delivered where a completely separate matter though.

Ivy smiled.

"Exactly, I am no one."

She echoed his words before continuing as if nothing had happened.

"I don't notice anyone familiar, I'd recognise one of our own."

The doors of the hall swung open, causing Ivy's head to turn right away and did she almost gasp. Right there stood Gandalf, cloaked in grey rags, leaning onto Legolas as if for support, shadowed by Gimli and Aragorn.

All looked worn by the road and haggard, but alive and well. Ivy's heart swelled in joy, but she didn't see the hobbits or Boromir with them. Perhaps they were left outside. The hobbits most likely had no idea how to behave in the presence of a king and Boromir was like a herder of hobbits. Haldir gripped Ivy's arm reassuringly, sensing her accelerated pulse.

"I know you wish to join them, but let us remain concealed for now."

The Nameless nodded, nails digging into her palm. That was the reasonable thing to do, stay hidden to help when necessary. Oh how she wished to just hug Boromir, quite sure that the Gondorian will most likely have her head for not telling about her feeling ill.

"They're alright. I didn't think I'd ever see them again after parting."

The elf nodded.

"You will speak to them, but when this is over. Just be patient for another hour."

The tone of Haldir's voice managed to calm Ivy, as if by magic. Her posture relaxed once more and she calmly observed the events about to unfold. Grima was hovering right around the king, his small eyes scrutinising the new arrivals with distaste.

"The courtesy of your hall is somewhat lessened of late, Théoden king!"

Gandalf's voice boomed through the hall like a breath of fresh air, showing no sign of weakness. Ivy was sure that she saw Grima shrink under the mere presence of this wizard. Ivy took this moment to stalk away from Haldir and scan the hall.

This moment when everyone's attention is turned to Gandalf, she would attack right now were she an assassin. Just one could throw or a well-placed arrow would be enough to end this king. For the first time Ivy heard the king speak, in a faint and cackling voice he retorted while dragging each word as if it took tremendous effort to even speak.

"Why should I welcome you, Gandalf Stormcrow?"

It didn't escape Ivy's notice that Grima's thugs had gathered and menacingly stalked Gandalf and the remaining fellowship, ready to strike them down. Well two can play this game. She saw from the corner of her eye that Haldir was taking her side.

Grima and Gandalf bantered back and forth, but Mithrandir ended the discussion by turning the point of his white staff to Grima's face. The pale man backed away, finally afraid.

"I told you to take the wizard's staff!" He shouted at the guards that had been posted by the door.

Gamling and Hama, if Ivy remembered their names correctly. The thugs rushed towards the fellowship and even Gamling was ready to join the fray out of loyalty to his king, but Hama held him back.

Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli had no problems dealing with this group of common sell swords. They still hadn't noticed Ivy's presence. Gimli stomped on Grima's chest, keeping the snake on the ground where he belonged, allowing Gandalf to speak to Théoden directly.

"I release you from the spell." Said Gandalf, closing his eyes and holding up his hand.

The entire hall stood still, waiting to see how this exchange will end. Théoden merely laughed mockingly.

"You have no power here, Gandalf the grey."

This jab visibly angered the wizard and he cast off the grey rag to reveal the blindingly white robes beneath. Théoden yelped as his body was thrown back against the chair by an unseen force.

"Is he here?" whispered Haldir into Ivy's ear who shook her head.

"I don't understand, there has to be someone."

Her eyes scanned every face, corner and pillar, frantically looking for anything out of the ordinary. A tattoo, a familiar dagger or face, anything.

Suddenly Théoden jumped from his throne, lunging at the wizard, only to be thrust back by Gandalf's staff. The king slumped back into his throne and it seemed like this…whatever one may call it, was over. Ivy couldn't believe that Gandalf literally beat Saruman out of the king's mind.

A woman in white rushed towards Théoden, supporting him and helping him sit up. The man that looked up was not the king that Ivy had seen before. It's almost as if the clouds from his eyes had been lifted for there was life in them and independent thought. He looked around quizzically, as if unsure what was going on. Finally, someone woke him from his slumber.

Haldir tapped on Ivy's shoulder, making her turn towards the door. She was relieved to see Orophin and Rúmil, and it seems they had caught the Nameless on their own. Ivy relaxed, a smile on her lips that vanished as soon as the Nameless looked up. Those mismatched eyes, that carefree cheerful smile on the man's lips…

"Where's the other one?" whispered Ivy.

Haldir looked at her quizzically.

"Other one?"

His question fell to deaf ears, for Ivy had already taken off. She jumped on the table, using it as her support to make a lunge at a man walking towards the king with what was most likely the king's own sword in his hands. Only now did Haldir take notice that the profile of this man looked eerily similar to the one's his brothers were holding captive.

Twins, how startlingly brilliant.

They were probably hoping that Ivy and the elves would hunt the Nameless together, this way keeping them away from the king or at least hindering the party until Ivy recognised one of them.

It took only a fraction of a second for Ivy to reach the twin and place her dagger on his neck. She hadn't thought about what this might've looked like to anyone else in the hall, not even once. Right now she looked like the assassin.

Both Gamling and Hama were attempting to reach the king, but it was Legolas who stayed their hands, whispering something to them before letting them go. Probably assuring them that Ivy harboured no malicious intent.

"You give the sword to the king and then you and I will go outside for a little chat, along with your brother." She hissed in his ear.

If possible she hoped to talk this out with the twins. Ivy had known them for years, they watched her train and grow into a woman and she wasn't about to let them get killed because of a miscalculation. Strangely enough Mandos wasn't showing any resistance, neither was Marin. They were either plotting to take her out together or this submissiveness was deliberate.

The twin looked at Ivy stoically before smirking.

"All these years, and this is how you greet me? With a dagger in my face. Fair enough, I know when I'm beat."

Gandalf, who stood nearest to Ivy gave her a warm smile.

"You're right on time."

Ivy laughed, relieved.

"I try to make an entrance."

Mandos surrendered the king's sword to Gamling before raising his hands in defeat. Ivy removed the dagger from his neck, but kept it squeezed in her palm. She exchanged a knowing smile with the fellowship, or what was left of it.

A wordless promised passed between them to catch up when the official part was over. Although her self-control almost waned when Gimli gave her the biggest smile of joy that she had ever seen. What she wanted to do was to run up to him and hug the dwarf with all her might.

Last time they had seen her she was dying of some unknown poison and here they were, all gathered in the same room.

Haldir grabbed the twin's arm in his iron grip before motioning for Orophin and Rúmil to come to them. He escorted Mandos while Ivy strolled next to him, her posture somewhat relaxed.

"How on earth did you get a hold of the king's sword, Mandos?" asked Ivy, almost jestingly from the Nameless.

After all, they were lifelong friends. The man cast her a sultry look.

"And just how do you know that I'm not Marin?"

The woman snickered, rolling her eyes.

"Oh please, I could tell you two apart in my sleep."

The Warden silently observed the bantering of the two, making a note in his mind to inquire about their relationship later. Clearly they were on very friendly terms, despite Ivy being ready to kill him just moments ago. Or perhaps this was simply to stay the man's hand?

No, this was true friendship. He had never seen Ivy's features soften up this much. She was at ease with this man and on familiar terms.

Ivy led them out from another exit to the side of the king's hall and guided them to a remote corner. Let the important people finish their squabbles with Grima out in the front. This was private. Orophin and Rúmil caught up with Ivy, pushing Marin to his twin brother.

"This one calls himself Mandos." said Orophin to his older brother.

Haldir quirked an eyebrow.

"Well Ivy called this one Mandos just now."

Discussion and mention of names didn't escape the woman's attention who rolled her eyes.

"Really, Marin? You impersonated Mandos to some strangers?"

The man grinned sheepishly.

"It has saved me before and redirected anger from me. Not to mention it's pointless with you around."

The revelation earned him a smack from the real Mandos. Only now did Haldir and his brother notice the twins' eyes. True, their eyes were mismatched in colour, but the colours were also mirrored. That's how Ivy could tell the difference between the two at glance.

Haldir motioned for his brothers to pull back, trusting this matter to Ivy. Those were her companions and this was her burden to sort out. They had fulfilled their duty. Ivy did have only one demand to the twins.

"The king must live."

Mandos raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms across his chest.

"The king is under Saruman's influence."

Ivy was quick to rush to Théoden's defence, thankful that the twins were at least still willing to parlay. There was no telling what would happen if she'd just let them leave without trying to talk things out. There's nothing to stop them from finishing the job later.

"Was under Saruman's influence. Based on what I just saw before the wizard arrived, I would have executed him as well."

Marin was the one to pipe in this time.

"Then why didn't you?"

"Because he's presence holds importance in the long run. I need for him to be alive. I was tasked with this by Gandalf and Lady Galadriel of Lothlórien."

She wasn't quite sure how to explain this without revealing too much information. There was no way she could tell them about the one ring, but to base her arguments on 'A wizard and elf told me to do it' was pure weakness. Marin snorted, rolling his eyes.

"Since when do you take orders?"

"I don't take orders. I think for myself and act accordingly. I travelled with Gandalf the Grey for the past few months in order to aid him on a mission that holds real impact and in order for it to succeed, he needs the king."

This caught Mandos attention.

"Mission? We heard from Siron that you abandoned reason and joined Sauron."

The name caused Ivy to freeze.

"Siron? Sauron? Then why are you still talking to me?"

She hadn't heard Siron's name in quite a while, but what worried her most was Mando's claim. Why would Siron spread lies that she had joined Sauron? He's the most thorough and reasonable man that Ivy had ever met and…of course that's why most would never doubt his claims, especially if he makes daring accusations such as that.

"Well why are you still talking to us? You had every chance to kill us there and tell any lie you wished to the king. You joining Sauron sounded just wrong. I don't care how trustworthy Siron might be, but he never taught us to blindly follow orders without gathering our own perspective. We were hoping to find you before anyone else does to see if he's speaking the truth."

Mandos' logic was solid and it seemed that Siron had taught the twins perhaps a little too well.

"Why were you targeting the king?" asked Ivy out of pure curiosity.

If they were hunting her then Théoden should've been the last one on their minds.

"We weren't targeting him specifically. Siron's words sent us all searching for you, at least all from our generation. Mandos and I just happened to pass by here and…like you said. Théoden looked completely gone and beyond hope. The plan was for his son to succeed."

Ivy buried her face in her hands.

"What the hell is going on…Well, do I at least have your word that you will leave Théoden alive?"

This was a bit too much to handle right off the bat and things were making even less sense than before. The twins both placed their palms over their heart.

"We swear. Théoden was freed from influence, we both saw it. There's no need for our interference any longer."

Their word was something that she could trust wholeheartedly and Ivy visibly relaxed as the threat was over.

"Alright, then what now?"

Mandos flashed her his trademark grin that had a tendency to sweep women of their feet.

"How about we catch up over a mug of ale?"

* * *

 **Hello again!**

 **Yes, I've returned from the dead/university once more. I have a few more days to spare and I'm hoping to get as much writing done as possible. Just realised while writing this chapter that my naive dream of keeping a correct timeline in the sense of having characters stay in one place for the canonical amount of time has completely gone to hell, but I'll do my best.**

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter!**


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